
hy 

Hcnri ArD€L 


LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, i 

Chap.!EZ.3Copyright No.. 

Shelf..,.. AA7 C> L 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 







■'4 ,'- 
» • 1 ' 



St 


« i' ■ . I 1 ^ 'K 


F' ^ j ^ lii^y I 


wm 


OT . 


/, ..« • -*•- •• 


• ■''j. ^.. 4 .'‘/s? - ' 


i/' 




V, .:,V :’"'. ;s 


f ^ 1 . ' . ' 


‘0 • .‘ ' • 

Msm. 


• ' » • . 




■ •, ^o:-. 

.*' * V*' *-‘4' vtl ■ * 




' » •- 


I » t ® -fe 

F..mV » * 














LITTLE ARLETTE, 

OR 

My Cousin Guy. 


BY 

/ 

Henri Ardel. 

i\ 


Translated from the French 
By FRANCIS T. FUREY, A. M. 



PHILADELPHIA : 

H. L, KILNER & Co., 

PUBLISHERS. 


TWO COPIES received, 
‘lilbrary of Cong^rasi^ 

Office of tha 

DEG121899 

Register of Copyrightflw 

T2 5 
. I\ c.-] a L 


48527 

COPTBIGHT, 1899, BY H. L. KiLNER & CO. 


SECOND COPY, 


\o o 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


CHAPTEE I. 

“You’re sure, Guy, that you’ll not forget my 
instructions? You won’t forget that we expect 
a telegram from you telling us when to take the 
road for Douarnenez so as to reach there on the 
eve of the Pilgrimage,” Madame Chausey once 
more repeated to her brother, a tall and hand- 
some young man of about twenty-eight, of noble 
bearing, who was her junior by nearly fifteen 
years, and whom on that account she regarded 
in a way as she might regard her eldest son. 

They were standing in the doorway of the 
principal hotel in Pont-Aven, awaiting the car- 
riage that was to bring Guy de Pazanne to the 
little railway station of Quimperle. He had 
taken to laughing heartily at his sister’s instruc- 
tions. 

“ I beg of you, Louise, to say nothing more to 
me on that subject. Your lack of confidence in 
my memory humiliates me. I assure you that I 
will carry out my mission of harbinger to perfec- 
tion ; that you will have ‘ cozy quarters and a 
downy bed,’" as they say in poetry, a carriage for 
the. J^lgrirqage, etc. Depend on me for that ! ” 

“ MdifSxh Fj^lly, uncle ? ” roguishly broke in a 
3 


4 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


blond young girl, looking slim and elegant in her 
white Parisian dress. 

Beside her stood her betrothed ; and to any one 
thus seeing them side by side it was quite evident 
that their marriage could not be classed as one 
merely “ of convenience.” 

Like an echo came through the window the 
voice of another young girl repeating merrily : 

“ May we really, uncle ? ” 

By way of pleasantry only did she give him 
this title, for ordinarily, fraternally, they ad^ 
dressed one another by their baptismal names 
only. 

“ You may, nieces, I give you my word of 
honor. Therefore enjoy in peace your closing 
hours at Pont-Aven.” 

And, turning to the two lovers, he concluded 
facetiously : 

“Enjoy it, happy pair, to whom Pont-Aven 
will remain a synonym for a place of delight, so 
suggestive of the most delightful memories will 
it ever seem to you ! ” 

“ Come, Guy, do not make merry at their ex- 
pense,” remarked Madame Chausey, laughing ; 
“otherwise take care lest when your own turn 
comes. . . .” 

“ When my turn comes ! I fancy it will be so 
late in life that by that time we shall all be too 
staid to be tempted in the least to joke or make 
merry of one another ! ” 

“ ‘ Sour grapes,’ Guy,” laughingly ejaculated 
Charlotte, the affianced girl. “If Jeanne d’ Es- 
teve were here, would you still make such dec- 
larations, uncle, dear uncle ? ” 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


5 


“ Chi lo sa f Perhaps, indeed, the occasion, 
Pont-Aven’s delightful verdure, the influence of 
the Breton sky, of all these Breton headdresses, 
of . . . what more do I know ? Perhaps all 

these things together would work on me in such 
a way as to make me risk a decisive declaration 
to the beautiful Jeanne, but. . . 

“ But,” interrupted Madame Chausey, “ for the 
present you ought to think, not of conquering 
the lady of your thoughts, but rather of bidding 
us adieu and taking your departure ; otherwise 
you will miss your train, and you know 
that. . . .” 

“ That I have to look up for you at Douar- 
nenez a domicile, a carriage, etc. I assure you, 
Louise, that you do not have to repeat it to me 
a^ain. I am off. . . . See, here comes mv 

vehicle.” 

And that vehicle was far from elegant — a sort 
of small covered cart, hobbling and jolting, 
driven by a pale thin-visaged Breton, the ribbons 
of whose broad-brimmed felt hat were waving in 
the bi*e(^zo. Far from elegant, indeed ; and Guy 
surveyed it with an amused glance, whilst 
through his mind passed a fugitive vision of the 
nettlesome team that, in Paris, he had been wont 
to drive daily to the Bois. 

Madame Chausey repeated : 

“ Hurry, Guy, unless you want to miss the 
train ; your equipage is good enough to take you 
there. " Stroll a good deal around Douarnenez 
until we arrive. If time weighs too heavily on 
you in our absence, go and make the acquaintance 
of that family of relatives of ours down there.” 


6 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


“ Oh ! yes, the family that you have discovered 
for us at Douarnenez ! ” 

“ Discovered ! Nothing of the sort ! Come, 
Guy, jog your memory. Only yesterday I ex- 
plained to you that the local doctor, Yves Mor- 
gane, is a distant cousin of ours, by his first 
wife.” 

“ A cousin after the Breton fashion ! ” 

“No, indeed ; a genuine cousin, after the fashion 
of every country. Guy, do not be ever jesting 
so. You are intolerable ! ” 

“ Whether a genuine cousin or not is of little 
importance to me,” he said, smiling listlessly. 
“ I have no desire to go and make the acquaint- 
ance of that estimable Douarnenist. Moreover, 
as he is now in the power of a new wife, he is no 
longer any relative of mine, any more than the 
houseful of children with which, you say, this 
new wife has blessed him. You may go and 
visit him, if you see fit, Louise, most amiable 
and most sociable sister ; but as for me, I will 
leave that ^sculapius, an excellent man I am 
sure, to his patients.” 

“ It ought to be time to start, sir,” timidly in- 
terposed the driver, who was caressing his small 
horses’ ears with the tip of his whip. 

Guy looked at his watch : 

“The deuce! No doubt of it; the time is 
growing short. Start 1 So long, Louise and 
nieces. In two days, then, I will expect you.” 

He cordially grasped the hand of Charlotte’s 
lover, Pierre Bivesaltes, a childhood comrade of 
his, and mounted the vehicle. 

Some young misses of the English colony — 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


7 


quite strong at Pont-Aven — were most uncere- 
moniously watching the young man’s departure, 
whispering to one another in their English 
tattle, which gave to their words a chirping so- 
norousness, and exchanging remarks about the 
brilliant Parisian ladies, all three so light-hearted 
and so young-looking that one might easily take 
Madame Chausey to be her daughters’ eldest 
sister. 

They had also made quite an impression on 
the artists, ever numerous in that delightful little 
corner of Finistere. 

“ Somebodies ! ” they had murmured to one 
another the first time that, escorted by the two 
young men, these ladies had entered the curious 
dining-room of the “ grand ” hotel of the place. 

And with a connoisseur eye they had dis- 
creetly examined the three tourists — the mother, 
in the full-bloom of fine womanly maturity that 
had given her a superb bust, while at the same 
time leaving her countenance surprisingly fresh 
under the caress of bright auburn hair most 
carefully put up and artfully mantling over blue 
eyes that were almost continually smiling as 
were her lips, which naturally exposed two 
ivory rows of teeth that remained irreproach- 
able. 

In her eldest daughter she seemed to live again 
such as she had been twenty years before; it 
was the same blond beauty, the same joyous and 
unchanging heartiness that was diluted in her 
second daughter, a delicately pretty brunette, 
after the model of a Saxony statuette, which she 
equaled in elegance ; but a discreet elegance, 


8 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


impregnated with a grace that was as marked 
as was her very nature, quite gentle, naturally 
calm and correct, instinctively hostile to any 
originality whatever, though that originality 
remained ever so far from eccentricity. 

Those who classed Madame Chausey among 
the privileged ones of this world were not in 
error. In character she was an utter stranger to 
every feeling of pessimism ; and the loss of a 
husband, for whom she felt more esteem tlian 
alfection, had been the only trial to cast a shadow 
on her life as a woman. Her daughters had 
never caused her any serious anxiety, to such an 
extent had they inherited her happy disposition. 
Charming as they were, they were wonderfully 
successful in the world, a fact of which their 
mother was quite conscious. And to crown all, 
she was about to have one of them married, just 
as she had wished, to a man whom she had long 
known as a friend of that brother for whom she 
felt a genuine maternal tenderness, of which her 
daughters, Cliarlotte and Madeleine, laughingly 
said they were jealous. 

Quite attractive, it is true, was that Guy de 
Pazanne, who illustrated the rare occurrence of 
being appreciated equally by men and by 
women ; by the former because he was a most 
gallant man, as devoted a friend as he was a safe 
comrade ; by the latter because to them he was 
chivalrously courteous, with a chivalry discreetly 
marked with a touch of boldness that gave a 
special savor to the homages he offered to them 
while softening the ever-bantering brilliance of 
his look, which was made for the study of men 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


9 


and of things. As a soldier and in time of war, 
he would have been one of those who perform 
acts of heroic and mad temerity as if he were 
taking part in play. But he was not a soldier, 
in no wise had he to display military courage, 
and he performed no other acts than those dic- 
tated to him by his own sweet will. Yet, under 
his smiling skepticism he concealed a most real 
and most warm kindness of heart, a power of 
devotedness that one would not have suspected 
in that elegant clubman to whom life had ever 
been good and fortune kind. 'Without his hav- 
ing had the trouble of acquiring it, the latter in- 
deed furnished him with an income that he spent 
with a light heart, as well in Paris, from which 
he could not long absent himself, as everywhere 
else, in France and abroad, whither he was at- 
tracted by his curiosity as a man of very superior 
intelligence and endowed with most correct ar- 
tistic taste. 

And it was because bounteous nature had so 
dowered him that he had just found so keen a 
pleasure in his trip into Brittany ; for this 
reason, too, the prospect of taking part in the 
Kergoat Pilgrimage on Lady Day in Harvest 
was agreeable to him ; and from the train which 
carried him toward Douarnenez, he kept un- 
weariedly looking out on the flying landscape, 
his eyes distracted at the stations by the sight of 
the costumes characteristic of the country, the 
white headdresses with raised wings, waving 
around the countenance of young girl and old 
woman alike ; distracted by everything that re- 
vealed the existence, in that extreme end of 


10 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


Brittany, of a little world apart, picturesque as 
the land in which it lived ; still shut out from 
the manners, the customs, the very language 
which was that of all other beings born in the 
old land of France. 

But, after a brief stay at Quimper, the train 
had just made its final stop with a sharp whis- 
tling, and on the bright blue board that overhung 
the station platform, in large white letters, was 
printed the word : Douarnenez. 


CHAPTER II. 


It was now evening — a sultry August night 
on which was borne by the breeze an exquisite 
perfume of honeysuckle and dampened verdure 
such as follows warm rain that makes the earth 
odorous and the sky limpid in a gushing of stars. 

In his hotel room Guy de Pazanne was writing 
by the light of a lamp, and his correspondence 
must have been amusing him, for a faint smile 
lit up his countenance. He wrote : 

“ Where, think you, have I just come from at 
this evening hour, late according to Douarnenez 
custom ? Whence, think you, have I just come, 
as I have only at this moment reached the rather 
respectable hotel in which you will soon have to 
set up your household gods, O sister, nieces and 
future nephew ? If, instead of a mere letter, I 
had to write, under very heavy penalty, a chap- 
ter of learned reflections tinged with philosophy, 
I would call it — and how correctly you will ac- 
knowledge ere long — ‘ Of the Influence of Storms 
on Men’s Actions, and on My Own in Particu- 
lar.’ 

‘‘Yes, dear Louise, had the sky not been 
leaden, loaded down with clouds this afternoon ; 
had not those clouds burst over my head and the 
heads of the people of Douarnenez in heavy 
downpours accompanied with lightning flashes 
and thunder peals — and this is no metaphor ; had 
11 


12 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


not my curiosity as a tourist at that moment 
drawn me far away from any shelter ; had not 
great, mighty, mysterious Chance deemed it 
opportune to be concerned with my insignificant 
person, I had not entered whither I have gone, 
nay, where I have been to dinner, to my great 
distraction. 

“ Charlotte, my darling, I imagine I hear you 
call to me impatiently : ‘ Where, then, have you 

been? ’ Be calm, niece. You shall have a com- 
plete, detailed narrative, such as might be a 
romance by. . . . But so as to hurt no one’s 

feelings, let us not mention the name. You 
shall have a narrative, the details of which will 
reveal to you that evening pleasures are con- 
spicuous at Douarnenez by total absence, and 
that blessed are those mortals who know how to 
suffice unto themselves. This is a truth of all 
time which I prize highly at this moment. 

“And my story? Well, here it is, O most in- 
quisitive of nieces. 

“You have already guessed it, have you not? 
This story has a heroine, a heroine who must be 
a unique little creature of her kind, even though 
she be not my heroine. Child or young girl, just 
merely a little girl, perhaps ; I am not so very 
certain which of these names suits her best. She 
is all of them combined, and, according to de- 
tails, she is either. In all frankness, — for we are 
now very good friends, and that without there 
having been any boldness in her conduct or au- 
dacity in mine, you may rest assured, wise Made- 
leine, — in all frankness, then, she confided to me 
that she is just seventeen. But she is so slender, 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


13 


yet not frail, that from her figure alone one 
would rank her among the very young. 

“ And now, where did I meet her ? Here are 
the circumstances : 

“ Tableau No. 1. — I have just alighted from my 
coach in the Douarnenez terminus. I ascertain 
that the atmosphere of the country is burning 
hot, perhaps an unusual condition here, and that 
the sky is a quite threatening greyish blue. As 
well as I can I protect my valise against the ex- 
cessive zeal of representatives of all the hotels, 
both small and large, and I make my way to the 
majestic bridge that at a considerable height 
stretches over the Pouldavid. In front of me 
briskly walk a group made up of two chunky lit- 
tle boys — not handsome, on my word, as thus 
seen in bewildering profile, but robustly broad- 
shouldered — escorting between them a spare and 
dainty young girl in a rose-colored dress, whose 
countenance I do not get a chance to scrutinize. 
I am only able to survey the pliant outline of a 
cheek velvety as a pretty fruit, an adorable white 
nape showing a golden reflex from the flap of 
deep auburn hair with coppery red streaks, most 
perplexingly wreathed, in such a way as to leave 
entirely free, but yet just grazed by small undis- 
ciplined and frizzled locks, a young girl’s neck 
proudly supporting a fine head whose outlines I do 
not see. But every very little while I hear the 
outbursts of a young voice and a hearty laugh fit 
to cheer the most gloomy misanthrope in the 
world. Charlotte, do not judge my excellent 
friend and your lover, Pierre, too severely ; he 
will understand me when I tell you that, impelled 


14 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


by a vague curiosity, I hasten my steps forward 
so as to get ahead of the group as they continue 
to scamper before me, ever so smartly. At last 
I pass them ; but the said group, which certainly 
mean no malice by that, turn around at this very 
moment as a single person ; and just then I no- 
tice that my unknown one has laughing lips and 
large black eyes, very black, somewhat sunken 
under her brows, whose big pupils sparkle glee- 
fully with all the vivacity of youth. 

“ As a man of sober sense I go on my way 
without further indulging in the sin of curiosity, 
and I reach the hotel reputed to be the most pleas- 
ant in the town. 

‘‘ Tableau No. 2. — And just as I make my way 
into it I find its atmosphere thoroughly impreg- 
nated with cheerfulness, for its landlord’s first 
heir has just been christened to the accompani- 
ment of a copious discharge of small shot and of 
ringing of bells. The father is exultant and in- 
vites me to celebrate the birth of his newborn 
son along with those who are already guests of 
the house, to whom he is offering a rejoicing 
punch. The male servants are radiant also, and 
so in like manner are the chambermaids, under 
the flapping of their headdresses, seeming as if 
palpitating, all of them rejoicing likewise as it 
were. 

“ You can easily understand that I felt some- 
what out of my element in the midst of that gen- 
eral hilarity. I positively felt as if I were an in- 
truder in this house, in which the most consci- 
entious efforts could not give me the desired 
tone. Accordingly I set out to explore the little 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


15 


town and its nearest surroundings, like an im- 
prudent man who forgets that from the begin- 
ning storms have at their own good time let their 
floodgates loose on mortals exposed to their ef- 
fects. Far from being deterred by the heavy 
grey clouds tinged with red that were constantly 
piling up ; during the yet fugitive lightning flashes 
and the first rumblings of thunder, I stopped — 
oh, how imprudent ! — to admire more leisurely 
the superb horizon formed by the tempest-laden 
sky. Nay more, I stopped on a highway, known 
as that of the Kis, just where there branches off 
from it an excuse for a path which descends al- 
most perpendicularly to the entangling windings 
between the rocks that hedge the coast, and which 
leads down from a great height, picturesque as 
one could wish in its borderings of furze and 
heather, but appropriately abrupt. A goat path 
I may call it. 

“ And yet, just as I was thus thinking of it, stroll- 
ers emerging as it were from the rocks entered upon 
it. They were one . . . two . . . three. 

And one of these strollers was a strolleress, in a 
rose-colored dress, who recalled to my thoughts 
the already effaced vision of my unknown young 
girl of the Pouldavid. Was it she again? By 
way of answer the strong rising wind carried to 
me the far-off echo of words spoken by a young 
voice, and I could make out these simple expres- 
sions : 

‘‘‘Quick! Corentin. . . . The storm is 

close. . . . Which of us two will be the first 

on the road ? ’ 

“That, and nothing more, is what I heard. 


16 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


And I had distinctly heard, for all at once I saw 
a small rose-colored form spring forward and run, 
so rapidly that she seemed merely to brush the 
dusty grass on which, alas ! large drops of rain 
were already splattering. She clambered up un- 
ceasingly, giving me, I assure you on my word, 
an exalted idea of her agility and of the perfect 
soundness of her lungs. She clambered up as 
easily as we get along on our well-graveled acacia; 
walk. She clambered like a light rosy Avhifl- 
wind, not seeming to have the least idea how in- 
credibly rough the path was. 

“ At some distance behind her, for example, 
the small boy whom she had called Corentin 
was trotting clumsily, stumbling from one side 
to the other, his cheeks flushed, his too stout 
urchin limbs unable to compete successfully with 
his companion’s young fairy feet. For a second, 
however, she stopped to turn round, and far be- 
hind her she perceived the unfortunate Corentin 
continuing in his toil to advance quickly ; then, 
still farther down, her other companion taking it 
upon himself as a duty to catch up with her. He 
was making long strides, jumping over clumps of 
furze, spurred on to the play, no doubt, by no- 
ticing tliat genuine little elf almost at the top of 
the path. She had already started off again, 
after having giadsomely called to the boy : ‘You 
can’t catch me ! ’ and she reached the top with 
her nose in the wind, her half-disheveled hair 
flying around her face in the squalls, which had 
become furious ; one of them even carried off her 
hat without her seeming to notice it ; and in tri- 
umph, charmingly exhilarated by the excitement 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


17 


of the race, she appeared on the highway just in 
front of me. Her cheeks were purple and her 
skin quite moist under her shivering little white 
locks on nape and forehead ; a rapid breathing 
just opened her lips, fresh enough to make one 
dream of foolish things, and in her large black 
pupils danced a flame of pleasure the reflection 
from which enlivened the brilliance of her coun- 
tenance, which was piquantly, chittishly and de- 
lightfully irregular. 

“ She had no suspicion of my presence until 
then. Suddenly finding herself only a very feAv 
paces from me, she uttered a faint ‘ oh ! ’ of sur- 
prise that she immediately suppressed ; for at 
that very instant a blinding flash rent the clouds 
massed over our heads, and was followed imme- 
diately by a deafening thunderclap. She jumped 
from fright and, replacing her comb haphazard 
in her thick undulating hair, she called : 

“ ‘ Corentin, Yves, let us fly ! Quick ! We are 
going to get wet ! ’ 

“ They were indeed — and so was I ! through 
my fault, through my grievous fault, in punish- 
ment for my curiosity. And seriously wet. 
About that there was no longer the shadow of a 
doubt ; for the clouds were opening to let down 
a veritable waterspout on our heads. The boys 
in their turn emerged upon the road, good Cor- 
entin, unembittered by his defeat, carrying the 
hat left behind by its owner, who seemed not at 
all concerned about it. But the shower beating 
on her hair must have made her fully conscious 
that she was bareheaded, for she at once replaced 
her hat with no slight pleasure, while with like 


IB 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


rapidity I opened the umbrella that I had 
brought with me, thanks to my scent as a civi- 
lized animal. I was almost ashamed of it on see- 
ing my young Atalanta bedewed after the man- 
ner of the flowers which she equaled in brilliance. 
How good-naturedly she bore the assault of that 
formidable showier- bath filled me with admira- 
tion of her valor and with contempt for the care 
that I was taking of my own self. 

“ Between ourselves, I felt positively gro- 
tesque, strutting with a brisk and dignified step, 
under the shelter of my umbrella, and I a man ! 
whilst those three children were getting wet to 
the very marrow of their bones. To offer the 
entire use of m}^ umbrella was quite heroic, for it 
was raining — and oh, how heavily ! on that 
shelterless road, fringed only with tall fir-trees, 
insufficient under the circumstances. To offer to 
share it was not without its charm, my old 
Pierre. But did I know how I would be re- 
ceived ? My courtesy, discretion and selfishness 
were waging fierce battle, whilst in front of me 
my unknown heroine was running between her 
two bodyguards. I saw the water gradually 
marbling the rose-colored bodice. Then it oc- 
curred to me that there are moments when pro- 
])riety ought to keep in the background, when 
there is question of the laws of mere humanit}^ 
and, with the aid of a few rather long strides, I 
caught up with the group and called : 

“ ‘ Miss ! ’ 

“ She turned round. I saw the large eyes com- 
pounded of shade and light fix on me in great as- 
tonishment, with a child’s look. 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


19 


“ ‘ Miss, the rain is coming down so heavily that 
I entreat you to do me the honor of accepting 
the shelter of my umbrella.’ 

“ Her expression of surprise became still more 
pronounced. At the same time she shrugged her 
shoulders in token of indifference : 

“ ‘ Thank you, sir. It is all the same to me to 
get wet ! ’ 

“I had already so suspected for some time. 
But I had not even an opportunity to answer 
her, for a peal of thunder resounded so deafen- 
ingly that all four of us trembled. Corentin, 
who was not valor personified, drew close to his 
sister, and I indistinctly heard big Yves’ voice 
articulate : 

“‘Arlette, you had better accept the gentle- 
man’s offer, for father will be annoyed to know 
that you have been caught in the storm ! ’ 

“ Arlette ! What do you think of that old 
name given to this very young creature ? 

‘‘ Probably Mademoiselle Arlette’s father was 
a power to her — even though she had a mouth 
quite indicative of self-will, for at the mere men- 
tion of the name she was so docile as to come 
and take her place by my side. And, much bet- 
ter still, we took to running along the road, from 
which we could, at last! look down upon the 
good town of Douarnenez, drowning under that 
new deluge. 

“Alongside of me Mademoiselle Arlette was 
flying silently, her bright look wandering to 
right and to left, without ever for an instant 
resting on my mean person, but rather, from 
time to time, on some sprigs of honeysuckle that 


20 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


she had slipped under her belt, the perfume from 
which came to me in whiffs. I saw her only in 
profile; a wild lock of hair, quite golden, fell 
in a ringlet over her left temple, waving in the 
wind, and every moment she threw it back im- 
patiently. 

“The two boys were galloping along with 
great strides. 

“ During our disorderly journey I asked my 
companion : 

“ ‘ Please tell me, miss, whither I am to escort 
you.’ 

“ ‘ We are almost there. There it is! Let us 
make haste; in a second we shall be under 
shelter 1 ’ 

“To make haste must have been familiar to 
her, for marvelously did she do so. I followed 
her closely, I who had not her young girl’s nim- 
bleness. The boys rushed into the walk of a 
garden enclosed by a railing. Mademoiselle Ar- 
lette leaped forward, and I followed her ex- 
ample, striving to protect her as best I could 
against the hail, which was now lashing us. 
With a bound she cleared the dripping steps of a 
small stone stairway, and reached the threshold 
of a narrow and lofty door. There I discreetly 
stopped. But her voice resounded almost im- 
peratively : 

“ ‘ Come in, sir, come in quickly ! ’ 

“ And I obeyed, impelled first by the instinct 
that urges us to seek shelter when it is raining, 
and then by curiosity to know who this young 
sylph was. Then I found m 3 ^self in the presence 
of a stout 'bourleden with cheeks like biffin apples 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


21 


who, in the Breton tongue, was fulminating 
with an air of authority against big Yves and 
unfortunate Corentin, pointing out to them with 
angry gesture the marks of their muddy boots 
on the vestibule flags. On seeing me she 
stopped short, seeming as if wishing to ask who 
that bold person was who took the liberty 
thus to penetrate, quite wet as he was, into a 
strange house ; and so full of meaning was her 
expression that I felt a desire to excuse myself 
to her bluntly and then wend my way toward 
Douarnenez. 

‘‘ But Mademoiselle Arlette repeated to me : 

“ ‘ Come in, sir.’ 

“And, no longer hesitating, I went in. She 
was moving to open a door beside her — a sanctu- 
ary that I must have been unworthy to become 
acquainted with, for the fierce matron gave a 
sign of indignation and in Breton uttered some 
words in that furious tone that seemed familiar 
to her ; but yet Mademoiselle Arlette appeared 
to take very little concern of it. Merely a pur- 
ple wave mounted to her rosy cheeks, the wilful 
curl of her lips became intensified, and, posing 
her little head, she said, while keeping her hand 
on the door knob : 

“ ‘ I wish it so, I do ! Is papa there ? 

“‘Ko,’ in French this time, growled that ter- 
rible bourleden. ‘ No, the doctor has not re- 
turned.’ 

“ The doctor ! I set my ears. I was in a 
doctor’s house ! And at Douarnenez ! Louise, 
the Turks are eminently wise — one does not es- 
cape his destiny, and the voice of blood is not 


22 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


what a vain people thinks. 1 questioned as re- 
spectfully as possible : 

“ ‘ Please excuse me, miss, for asking you this 
question : Am I not in Dr. Morgane’s house ? ’ 

“ ‘ Just so ! ’ Mademoiselle Arlette replied, look- 
ing at me with large inquiring eyes. 

‘‘ ‘ And is this not Mademoiselle Arlette Mor- 
gane who is so kind as now to offer me hospital- 
ity ? ’ 

‘‘ ‘ Yes ! ’ she again replied, in the same tone of 
extreme surprise. I feel certain that at that 
moment my little apparition of the Pouldavid 
was beginning to think that the storm had upset 
my brain. ‘Yes, I am Arlette Morgane.’ 

“ And, unceremoniously she unaffectedly con- 
cluded : 

“ ‘ Why do you ask me that ? ’ 

“ ‘ To have the honor, miss, of presenting my- 
self to you as your cousin, Guy de Pazanne.’ 

“‘My cousin! You are my cousin? AVhat 
cousin ? Not from Chateaulin, for then you 
would be my stepmother’s cousin, but not mine. 
Oh, no, not mine ! ’ 

“Why the deuce did she speak to me of 
Chateaulin ? A mystery ! At all events, I an- 
swered : 

“ ‘ No, not from Chateaulin, from Paris. I am 
a transient only at Douarnenez, and my sister, 
Madame Chausey, and her daughters will reach 
here the day after to-morrow. Do you know 
her, at least by name ? ’ 

“ I was positively making myself feel like an 
intruder, like one of those imaginary cousins 
who turn up in a comedy ; and a strong desire to 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


23 


laugh took hold of my throat as I noticed the 
stout bourleden’s wild look, as well as the sur- 
prise of Yves and Corentin, my cousins also, hut 
Avho in no respect resembled their sweet little 
sister. I know not what thoughts were at work 
in her young girlish brain ; but the gods be 
praised for that ! She seemed to have already 
accepted without reserve, as I offered him to her, 
that unknown relative found on a highway dur- 
ing a storm, when there appeared on the vesti- 
bule threshold a large outline figure, that of the 
doctor himself. In the confusion of that im- 
promptu introduction we had not heard him ap- 
proach. Before I had time to articulate another 
word Mademoiselle Arlette had bounded toward 
him, had caressingly thrown her arms around 
his neck, and exclaimed : 

“ ‘ Oh ! papa, guess what an odd thing has 
happened ! This gentleman gave me the shelter 
of his umbrella ; his name is Monsieur de Pa- 
zanne, and he is our cousin ! ’ 

“ ‘ Monsieur who ? What sort of a story is 
this?’ remarked the doctor, dumbfounded. 

“ I advanced, beginning over again a serious . 
presentation to the doctor, going over all the 
particulars, fearing lest that man, of highly in- 
tellectual mien, of sad and weary countenance 
surmounted by almost white hair, would take 
me for a sort of adventurer desiring to introduce 
himself into his home. In Paris, probably, I 
would have aroused this far from flattering fear ; 
but at Douarnenez one is more confiding and 
more hospitable. The doctor had no doubt of 
my identity, remembered you, Louise, myself 


24 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


when I was a little younger than big Yves, 
reached out his hand to me and, finally, opened 
for me, not the sanctuary door, but that of his 
office, a large room the desk in which was loaded 
with papers and books. The two boys had dis- 
appeared ; Mademoiselle Arlette, alone, had en- 
tered after us and was soon huddled up close to 
her father, like a wheedling kitten ; but he at 
once perceived that her hair and dress were 
damp and, though she remarked that ‘ it made 
no difference to her to be wet,’ he soon hurried 
her off to get dry — and in what a tone of tender 
solicitude ! 

“ The two of us remained in the large room 
darkened by the storm, and the doctor, as if it 
had been the greatest pleasure to him, took to 
talking to me of the past, of the time when you, 
Louise, were so intimate with his young Avife, 
whom he seems to have adored, as he now adores 
the only child that she bore to him, his Arlette. 
The others, the two boys and his second daugh- 
ter, now at Chateaulin with Madame Morgane, 
he loves, I have no doubt, but in other fash- 
ion ; Arlette must be the only real joy of his life. 
One clearly sees this from the way in which he 
follows her with his eyes. She alone seems to 
have the power of lighting up the sombre expres- 
sion of his features. 

“ In his second marriage he does not appear to 
have found perfect happiness ; every now and 
again a word in his conversation betrays in him 
a frightful intensity of despair, skepticism and 
bitterness. He leaves the impression of a man 
who had once inflicted on him an incurable 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


25 


wound, the secret of which he keeps to himself, 
but which is gradually, slowly and surely under- 
mining him. His pale and hollowed counte- 
nance alone appeared to me as a revealer ; and a 
word from him confirmed my opinion. 

“ As he had just recalled the days when you 
and he often met, he suddenly said to me with a 
sad smile : 

“ ‘ Your sister would not recognize me. Life 
has made of me an old man before my time. 
Since the beginning of my life as a man I have 
been suffering from a blow, the effects of which 
I have never been able to get rid of.’ 

‘‘From his tone I surmised that he was allud- 
ing to the death of his young wife. He remained 
silent for a moment, his look lost in some in- 
ternal vision. And as for me, I thought of what 
you had related to us, some days before, of 
Doctor Morgane’s marriage to your second 
cousin, Heine de Pazanne. No means on either 
side, was it not ? but a love marriage, which 
made two happy for scarcely a few years. I 
thought also of this second union of the doctor’s 
on which he had decided, you say, so that little 
r Arlette would not feel lonely whilst her father 
was absorbed in his patients. No love marriage 
that ; I can swear to it without having seen the 
second Madame Morgane. True, I have heard 
her spoken of. 

“ The doctor suddenly resumed : 

“‘You never knew Arlette’s mother? You 
were a child when she got married ! ’ 

“ ‘ Mademoiselle Arlette resembles her ? ’ 

“‘Not in features, perhaps. But, taken all in 


26 


littlp: aklette. 


all, she is to me the living image of her mother. 
You can judge for yourself. With you present, 
it seems to me, God knows, that the past comes 
back again for an instant. This resurrection is 
terribty sad to me, and yet it brings me also an 
unexpected joy for which I thank you ! ’ 

“ From a locked drawer of his secretary he 
took a portfolio, opened it and held it out to- 
ward me, without letting go of it, without turn- 
ing his eyes away from it; and I saw, on a 
miniature, an adorable brown head, sparkling 
eyes, a child’s mouth like Arlette’s, round 
shoulders emerging from a cloud of white 
draperies. . . . 

“ The doctor said to me in a halting tone : 

“ ‘ The year of our marriage ! Her head was 
covered so, thus was she dressed in white, the 
first time I saw her. It is the picture of her that 
I love most to see again ! ’ 

“ He kept looking at it with a sort of avidity, 
his countenance still more hollowed, a painful 
contraction around his lips, not even, I am cer- 
tain, hearing the words of profound sympathy 
that came to me for him. Silence again came 
between us, so absolute that I most distinctly 
heard the sound made by the drops of rain trick- 
ling from the branches under the cleared sky. 
Then all of a sudden Arlette’s fresh voice arose, 
to end in an outburst of laughter. The doctor 
gave a start. Without a word he shut the port- 
folio again. And he said to me, with his very 
same smile of undefinable bitterness : 

“ ‘ To 3"ou I must seem very weak, do I not ? 
Strange that I should so allow myself to be dom- 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


27 


inated by reminders ... of the olden time, 
seeing that I have made a new life for myself. 
But, the nearer one approaches his end, the more 
one loves to turn back toward the time, the fine 
time, of youth ! And, from one minute to another, 
my end may come. I have a disease of the heart 
with which I shall not live many years longer. 
I as a physician can nurse no illusion of myself.' 

‘‘ lie stopped for a second ; then, changing his 
tone, he concluded : 

“ ‘ It has made me very happy to see you, and 
so will I be to see your sister once more. If you 
are disengaged for this evening, will you give us 
the pleasure of spending it with us ? Come to 
dinner. I regret that Madame Morgane is at 
Chateaulin, with her family, for a few days more, 
as neither Arlette nor myself knows very much 
about receptions ; but you will no doubt excuse 
the simplicity of ours.’ 

“ I was going to reply. I had no time to do so. 

“ The office door had opened before a slender 
little person who, having heard the invitation, 
exclaimed in a tone in which entreaty and com- 
mand were mingled in the oddest manner : 

“ ‘ Oh ! yes, sir, stay, it will be so amusing ! ’ 

“ Since it would be ‘ so amusing ’ if I came, I 
would be quite naturally a marfeast if I declined 
Monsieur Morgane’s invitation, so warmly sec- 
onded as it was by my cousin Arlette. I merely 
returned to the hotel to leave off my tourist suit 
maltreated by a storm. Then, as Mademoiselle 
Arlette had gone to the trouble of recommend- 
ing to me, I did not lose very much time in pre- 
paring to retrace my steps to that house. 


28 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


“ When I arrived, she was pacing up and down 
the garden with the air of a sovereign in her 
kingdom, and, after having received me with the 
most charming of smiles, she said to me in a tone 
full of insinuation : 

“ ‘ Do you mind if we remain in the garden ? 
One feels so comfortable here ! ’ 

“ ^ I am entirely at your orders, miss,’ I began. 

“ She stopped me. 

“ ‘ Do not say “ miss ” solemnly like that, since 
you are not any mere Mr., but a relative.’ 

“ ‘ I will say “ cousin,” then ! Is that better ? ’ 

“‘Yes, that sounds better, and when you know 
more of me you will simply say “ Arlette,” will 
you not ? That will suit quite well.’ 

“ With this understanding, there began between 
my young companion and myself, in that garden 
scenting of mignonette, a conversation that was 
most fanciful, most piquant, most amusing, — to 
your humble servant, — taking it for granted that 
Mademoiselle Arlette Morgane, reared far from 
the world, has not the least idea that one can 
ever disguise one’s thought. Accordingly she 
expresses her feelings, opinions and impressions 
with a spontaneity and candor that are savor- 
ously droll, without her being concerned for a 
second with the judgment that heaven and earth 
might pass upon them. 

“ Thanks to this imperturbable frankness, now 
I know wonderfully well what is the state of her 
heart, a sort of sanctuary into which one does 
not enter at will. The deuce ! she admits into it 
only very few of the elect ! The omnipotent god 
of the sanctuary is her father, whom only, exclu- 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


29 


sively, she adores, with all the treasures of ten- 
derness that she seems to possess in abundance. 
Yery far behind, but still in the temple, are the 
two boys, Corentin and Yves. At the very door 
is Madame Morgane’s big daughter ; behind the 
door, it seems to me quite plain that she has piti- 
lessly relegated Madame Morgane herself, who, 
through Arlette’s unaffected reflections, appears 
to me like a sort of domestic tyrant governing 
her subjects under inflexible rules; I judged her 
so, and still more so when I saw her portrait in 
the room of the house that is her sacred domain, 
the parlor ! And what a parlor ! 

“ ‘ The most stupid room in the house ! ’ Arlette 
at once explained to me. 

“ ‘ Indeed ? How severe you are on this poor 
room ! ’ 

‘“Hot at all! You are going to see! The 
pieces of furniture are correctly arranged there 
close to one another. They have an air of disa- 
greeable elderly persons, ugly and motionless as 
well, who are tired of themselves. Papa is like 
me : he detests the parlor, and enters it only 
when he cannot do otherwise. As for me, when 
I go there to practise on my piano, I shut my 
eyes while crossing it. You understand that as 
the chairs and armchairs there have been, are 
and will be forever in the same place, I run no 
risk of coming in contact with them on my way ! ’ 
“ I asked out of curiosity : 

“ ‘ Y ou are a musician ? ’ 

“ ‘ That is to say, I sing what I like. But in 
my own way. And this way would perhaps seem 
to you very bad, for I have never taken a lesson.’ 


30 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


“ More and more puzzled, I asked : 

“ ‘ Then, will I not have the pleasure of hear- 
ing you ? ’ 

“ ‘ What ? Sing ? Oh ! this evening as much 
as you wish.’ 

“ I had to remain satisfied with this answer 
and to cut my thanks short, for in front of me 
Arlette was opening the door of the famous par- 
lor. Ah ! she had not described Madame Mor- 
gane’s favorite room too unfavorably. Lined 
alongside of one another with geometrical pre- 
ciseness, there was a file of armchairs and chairs, 
not to forget a vast couch, all alike covered with 
the most blinding of green repp, sprinkled with 
red poppy -hued peonies ; on the mantelpiece were 
])orcelain vases decorated with roses of incandes- 
cent purple, and in these vases, Louise, were paper 
flowers ! Oh ! certainly not, my cousin Arlette 
had not passed an unfavorable judgment on her 
stepmother’s parlor. She looked at me mischiev- 
ously, a smile drawing back her lip. 

“ ‘ I was right, was I not ? Say so ! It gives 
me so much pleasure when one is of my opinion ! 
You do not find this room very attractive ? ’ 

“ ‘ No, not exactly,’ I acknowledged, while my 
eyes, which were wandering far from delighted 
around the said parlor, found on their way two 
portraits encased in frames worthy of the whole 
collection of furniture. 

“Arlette, whose keen eye had followed mine, 
remarked to me in an expressive tone : 

“ ‘ Madame Morgane and her daughter, my 
sister Blanche. Would you like to see their 
photographs ? ’ 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


31 


“ And before I had answered she had crossed 
the parlor like a whirlwind and, returning with 
the two portraits, she stopped in front of the 
large open window, through which there came to 
us the same fresh odor of mignonette. Then, at 
the first glance cast on Madame Morgane, I un- 
derstood why between her and her dainty step- 
daughter the affinities must be quite the contrary 
of excessive. The features of the countenance 
were rather regular, heavily traced, but a severe 
line marked the contour of the lips, as well as 
that of the eyebrows, which extended under a 
narrow forehead — a stubborn forehead — and hair 
planted low, smoothed in well-stretched tresses 
that were also quite correct. To sum up : a vul- 
gar whole and the countenance of an imperious 
woman thoroughly imbued with her own impor- 
tance. Her daughter, on her part, while very 
closely resembling her, boasted of a round and 
placid face, of two small eyes that might mean 
anything, and of a bust so majestic that it really 
required all of Arlette’s reiterated assurances to 
persuade me that she was only fourteen, and not 
eighteen or twenty, as her — robustness might 
have easily led me to believe. 

“‘That is because she is very tall and very 
stout ! ’ Arlette explained. ‘ As for me, I look 
like a poor fly alongside of her ! Accordingly 
she finds me quite an abortion ! Are your nieces 
tall also ? ’ 

“ ‘ Oh, yes, rather ! ’ 

“ ‘ And they are pretty all the same ? ’ 

“ Hieces, out of regard for your modesty, I do 
not report my answer. But from it Arlette drew 


32 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


thi^ conclusion, which escaped from her lips with 
a deep sigh of envy : 

“ ‘ How delightful it must be to be pretty ! ’ 

“ On my word, she was so charming with that 
expression of unaffected desire in her eyes and 
on her lips, that an exclamation escaped from 
me : 

“ ‘ But, cousin, you must be marvelously well 
aware of that pleasure ! ’ 

“ She posed her head : 

“ ‘ Why do you say that to me ? ’ 

“ ‘ Because 1 think it.’ 

“ ‘ You think what ? That I. . . 

“She stopped, with a purple flush on her 
cheeks. 

“ ‘ That Dame Nature has been very generous 
in your regard ! Yes, certainly, I think so ; and 
I imagine that everybody thinks as I do.’ 

“ ‘ I do not know. No one has ever said the 
like. And Madame Morgane, even, is ever re- 
peating the contrary ! Then, you are speaking 
honestly ? ’ 

“ ‘ Honestly, rest assured ! ’ 

“‘You are not speaking merely from polite- 
ness, so as to please me ? ’ 

“ ‘ Not the least in the world. I am telling 
you only the real truth ! ’ 

“ Her countenance was lit up with a childish 
pleasure, and she whirled about with the light- 
ness of a fairy : 

“ ‘ Oh ! What happiness, what happiness ! So 
Madame Morgane will no longer be able to make 
me believe that small women are only monsters, 
since you, who dwell in Pairs, find me pretty ; 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


33 


and you ought to know something about it ! 
How happy I am, then, that you have come ! ' 

“All that was said with juvenile joy and with- 
out a shadow of vanity. But I know not what 
further revelations in regard to Madame Mor- 
gane our conversation would have brought to 
me had not the doctor come in and invited us to 
dinner. 

“ Arlette had been severe on her stepmother’s 
dishes and plates, which she had announced to 
me as frightful. Beyond dispute, they Avere ugly, 
but somewhat less so than the parlor furniture. 
The table setting was conspicuous for its total 
absence of elegance ; yet an admirable bunch of 
honeysuckle Avas in bloom on the middle of the 
table, in a crystal bowl, by reason of Mademoi- 
selle Arlette’s thoughtfulness ; and, moreover, 
she seemed delighted with this embellishment, and 
took it in, on the slightest occasion, Avith a glance 
of satisfaction that Avas quite amusing. But this 
did not prevent her from chatting Avith her play- 
ful liveliness, for she seemed insatiable of details 
concerning all of you, sister and nieces — details 
to Avhich she listened Avhile devouring her dinner 
Avith her pretty cat’s teeth, milk-Avhite and fine, 
Avhile beside her the boys gulped theirs in silence. 

“ But though they Avere mute as statues, yet 
they seemed filled Avith admiration of their 
young sister’s liveliness ; and they impressed me 
as being intensely devoted to her. Doctor Mor- 
gane himself Avas overcome by the influence of 
her youthful laughter, for his countenance Avas 
somewhat lit up, and he reAmaled himself as a 
very interesting talker, informed of everything 


34 


LITTLE AELETTE. 


bearing on the progress of current science, as 
well as of that of contemporary art — so much so, 
indeed, that I am still asking myself why a man 
of his merit has seen lit to bury his whole life in 
a small fishing village. 

“ Between him and Arlette I had everything 
needful for a delightful evening’s chat, and on 
widely differing topics ; but, without my suspect- 
ing it, my young cousin was reserving an exquis- 
ite surprise for me. And this surprise she pro- 
duced after dinner, whilst we were in the garden 
enjoying an incomparable evening. All of a 
sudden, while listening to her talk, I was struck 
with the richness of her tone of voice ; and at 
once came back to my memory her promise to 
give me a little music. I reminded her of this. 
She recalled it with very good grace ; but as I 
arose to follow her again into the house, she 
stopped me : 

“ ‘ If you are comfortable here, stay ; from 
where you are I can be heard quite distinctly. 
Just there papa remains every evening while I 
sing for him.’ 

“ I accepted, so delightful was it to follow the 
advice. I repeat to you that the night was 
worthy of Charlotte and her intended husband, 
Pierre. 

“ In the dim light that came through the win- 
dow Arlette’s slender form was outlined. 

“ ‘ Cousin, what do you wish to hear ? A sad 
piece, or a lively one ? ’ 

“ ‘ Both sad and lively ! Anything you wish, 
for I am passionately fond of music in all its 
forms, provided they are beautiful ! ’ 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


35 


“ ‘ And for my part I adore it ! ’ Arlette called 
to me as she disappeared. 

“ Louise, you will hear this young girl sing, 
and then you will have to admit that there is 
not the least exaggeration in what I say when I 
declare that she is marvelously gifted. What 
she sings and the way in which she sings it are 
unlike anything that we have been accustomed 
to hear ; it is old Breton songs, ballads, roun- 
delays, some plaintive, others of a rollicking 
strain or even wildly passionate. She enunciates 
them as she feels them, — and she feels very 
keenly, — giving them a tone, a setting, an in- 
tensity of expression that are perfectly astonish- 
ing. She sings them in her own way, as she 
says, for she has never taken the shadow of a 
lesson, in a voice altogether fresh and grave, 
which bounteous nature gave her full, flexible 
and marvelously thrilling. She sings them with 
quite simple accompaniments, nearly all of which 
she has herself improvised, according to the char- 
acter of the poesy for which they were intended. 
For certain ballads she has found chords of 
organ sonorousness. 

“ Ah ! indeed, I understand why her father 
remains for some time, and then lingers longer, 
of an evening, to listen to her. When she 
stopped, an instinctive ‘ Encore ! ’ arose to my 
lips. But she did not hear me. Keturning to 
the window, she called to me pleasantly : 

“ ‘ How silent ! Cousin, have I put you to sleep ? ’ 

“ ‘ Asleep ? Say rather you have so charmed 
me that I find it difficult to return to earth and 
that I can call up no words to thank you.’ 


36 


I.ITTLE ARLETTE. 


“ ‘ Do not thank me. Singing is the greatest 
pleasure to me. I am happy only in not having 
wearied you by obliging you to listen to me so 
long.’ 

“Had she, then, been singing long? Just at 
that moment a clock — that of the church, no doubt 
— struck ten. It must have been a late hour in 
Douarnenez, for I then noticed, having returned 
from the world of enchantment into which Ar- 
lette’s music had carried me, that big Corentin 
was asleep, with his nose in his cravat, and that 
the tall Yves was strongly tempted to imitate 
him. 

“ With all haste did I arise and begin to take 
leave of the doctor, who seemed alive to the 
pleasure that Arlette had given me ; but to my 
enthusiastic words he merely answered : 

“ ‘ Why should she not be a musician ! Her 
mother was so to such an extent as you cannot 
imagine ! ’ 

“ As regards the young person herself, she did 
not seem to have the least suspicion in the world 
of the amount of talent with which Heaven has 
gifted her. Hanging on her father’s arm, in that 
fawning way which is peculiar to her, she ac- 
companied me as far as the garden gate ; the 
flame from the lamp bathed her pale counte- 
nance, her fiery look and her little girl’s mouth 
in capricious reflexes. Through the night, as I 
let the gate close behind me, I heard her fresh 
voice calling to me for the last time : ‘ Good 
evening, Guy. Until to-morrow.’ 

“ And it was thus, on a memorable day, that I 
made the acquaintance of my Cousin Arlette.” 


CHAPTEK III. 


On the market square of Douarnenez there 
was a small low shop, well known not only to 
the housewives of the locality, but also to artists 
and men of letters coming to make their summer 
sojourn there, for they took pleasure in paying 
frequent visits for the purpose of chatting with 
the owner of the said shop. Mademoiselle Cather- 
ine Malouzec. It was so because she had indeed 
her own personality, had that solid Breton 
damsel, betraying so little trace of her three- 
score years that her tall robust form showed no 
effect of it, even from a distance ; scarcely did a 
few wrinkles furrow her white wax-like counte- 
nance, from which shone very bright eyes that lit 
up indisputable ugliness, but an ugliness that was 
smiling and amiable. Ever dressed in the same 
manner, she had the air of a nun, her grey hair 
stretched in flat bands under her frilled bonnet, 
her unique dress, always black, falling in stiff 
folds along her large ungraceful body. 

In the oldish little shop, glazed with narrow 
panes, behind which were arranged, in season, 
alternate pots of geraniums and fuchsias, not 
only did she sell everything, — clews of woolen 
yarn next to images variegated with bright colors, 
Quimper crockery ware, chocolate and feather 
dusters for the use of the housewives of Douar- 
nenez, — but she also, with singular and innate 
37 


38 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


dignity, received the choice visitors who came to 
her in search of details regarding the customs, 
legends and ballads of the country. These de- 
tails she gave to them in original language be- 
coming an intelligent woman, with a turn of wit 
quite peculiar to herself, as she had never been 
subjected to any intellectual influence. 

Not rich nor yet poor, she came of a very 
honorable family and could have lived “ as a 
lady ” in her house. But, above all, she was a 
strict observer of tradition ; and her grandmother 
and mother having in succession been sovereign 
mistresses of the low little shop, she had quite 
naturally followed their example except in so 
far as remaining a maiden, for she pitilessly re- 
garded herself as too ugly to be successful in the 
conjugal venture. 

Her brother, no less respectful of the family 
usages, which had made the men mariners from 
fat&r to son, had long been devoted to the sea, 
trading a little on every coast, until the day — 
too long in dawning — when, at last weary of his 
wandering life, he returned to settle down on 
that spot where he had played as a boy, with 
vigorous little brats who were now oldish men 
like himself. He had found the paternal house 
such as he had seen it when quite young ; he had 
resumed possession of the room which he had oc- 
cupied as a lad, that very one in which he had 
entertained his first dreams of a life of adven- 
ture, and the very walls of which in places still 
bore the marks of the tattooings that he had in- 
flicted on them in representation of the scenes 
described in his cherished books of travel. 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


39 


But now Monsieur Malouzec read no more, his 
recollections henceforward furnishing him a 
book that sufficed to delight him ; and his fa- 
vorite occupation had become the care of his 
garden, to which he paid a veritable worship, in 
company with a pretty human flower, his favor- 
ite, Arlette Morgane, who did whatever she 
wished with him, as Madame Morgane disagree- 
ably remarked on all occasions. Indeed this old 
sea wolf of athletic build, after all the most 
peaceable, best and mildest man that one could 
wish to meet, was the docile servant of the fan- 
tastic Arlette Morgane. ‘‘ She is the only pas- 
sion of his life ! ” laughingly asserted Mademoi- 
selle Catherine, who showed no jealousy what- 
ever thereat. She herself adored the child, 
whom she had known since birth, with all the 
unused tenderness that her old maid’s heart con- 
tained. And the child knew it well. 

When she was a baby, the low shop on the 
market square made on her the impression of a 
somewhat mysterious world, so many things did 
she notice there, of the use of which she under- 
stood scarcely anything. And so she came there 
all at once fearful and delighted, without, how- 
ever, losing any of her comic assurance, her 
haughty little mouth, which had not kisses for 
everybody, reaching out to seek caressingly the 
long thin face of Mademoiselle Catherine, ever 
lit up with a kindly smile for her. And then 
and there she was sovereign mistress, which 
suited admirably her juvenile independence ; she 
was received as a queen by Mademoiselle Cather- 
ine, who was delighted at seeing her parade her 


40 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


diminutive person in the dark shop, and amused 
at the boldness of the little fingers foraging right 
and left, even into the depths of the bushel bas- 
kets filled with dried lentils, for the mere pleas- 
ure of afterward scattering the innocent lentils 
to the four winds of heaven with a brisk move- 
ment of her hand. 

Sometimes, however, if Arlette’s fancies be- 
came too bold. Mademoiselle Catherine lost pa- 
tience and mildly reprimanded the little queen, 
who scarcely took any notice of it, but at once 
desisted from her play. With those whom she 
loved she was docile, yielding her impetuosity to 
the yoke in response to the tenderness shown 
her ; moreover, she was easily provoked at 
others exercising authority. Whence her more 
or less declared rebellions against Madame Mor- 
gane, who was incapable of understanding a 
ready-witted, ardent nature like that of this 
child, and who was irritated at not being able to 
transform her into an ordinary, docile, calm, in- 
dustrious little girl, a sort of living machine 
quite easy to put in motion. 

Industrious Arlette certainly was, but in her 
own way, passionately fond of what interested 
her, but totally indifferent to everything else ; 
for her mind was as it were a personage of very 
independent mood dwelling in a very precious 
palace that was still quite new, wfth crystal 
walls that were luminous and iridescent, and 
hermetically sealed against intruders. In the 
first rank of this number the owner of the bril- 
liant palace unhesitatingly placed arithmetic, a 
very estimable science no doubt, but after the 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


41 


manner of a sorcerer’s conjuring book ; good, she 
declared, for merchants and old folks who have 
put by large savings, but not indeed for little 
girls in the dawn of life. 

By way of retaliation, the doors had been 
opened cpiite wide to two illustrious sisters, his- 
tory and geography ; but she had received them 
in her own way, questioning them only on what de- 
lighted her, diverting her reverence from what was 
chronology, dates, administration, and with per- 
fect ease eschewing the lists of rivers, mountains, 
and other geographical accidents, which she left 
where they were, to remain there until the end 
of the world. Yet she was captivated by the 
visions which certain of them, sometimes by their 
mere name, called up in her imagination, which 
had already been prepared by the captain’s 
stories to enjoy the picturesque of distant coun- 
tries. He had navigated down there, in charm- 
ing regions that Arlette would never know, 
where grew strange tall flowers, under skies of 
an unfathomable blue, in the shade of splendid 
trees, such as were to be found in those stories 
and legends that she so loved to read. 

For, like all young beings, she had a taste for 
the marvelous. She adored the histories of 
saints performing miracles, which excited her to 
transports of admiration and never seemed sur- 
prising to her unaffected and ardent faith. She 
had filled her memory with old songs, old Celtic 
ballads that made her live in a charming world, 
unknown to the profane, peopled with enchant- 
ers, saints, fairies, and heroes escaping from here 
and there. Legend and history, indeed, had be- 


42 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


come SO mingled in that young brain, which was 
indifferent to the order of time, that it would 
have been quite impossible to make her distin- 
guish the domain peculiar to each. To Arlette all 
the personages that pleased her were contem- 
porary. It was thus that she made live on the 
best of neighborship the valiant Arthur, Henry 
lY., Eoland the paladin and Mary Stuart ; nay 
even the beautiful and fatal Dahut, King Gra- 
lon’s accursed daughter, to whose histoiy, while 
still quite young, she listened with charmed af- 
fright, and went soon afterward at low tide to 
try and see, in the infinite blond of the sands, 
the still striking ruins of the city of Ys, as was 
told. As regards the heroes who had not the 
gift of attracting her, she cast them aside pell- 
mell into the very dark chaos whither never 
would venture the hobgoblin that was her favor- 
ite sprite ; and at the head of the victims rele- 
gated into this gloomy abyss was enthroned the 
unfortunate Louis XIY. That majestic great 
king, helmeted in a cumbrous wig, to Arlette 
seemed quite crudely stupid for having buried 
his countenance under such an edifice and his 
liberty under the thousand bonds of etiquette. 

It was because liberty seemed to her the great- 
est of blessings, to her, genuine goblin as she 
was, a sister to those whom simple folk thought 
they saw in the evening dancing with all their 
might on the moor ; like them, all aflame, smit- 
ten with motion, overfloAving with laughing mis- 
chief, Avith intensely tender heart, Avith thought 
so clear as if intended to become merciless when 
her extreme candor no longer kept it in check ; 


LITTLE AELETTE. 


43 


having ■within her a whole world of sentiments, 
ideas and impressions that were united with one 
another and succeeded one another in such a way 
as to make of her a singularly living little crea- 
ture. 

A little creature who held, then, a very large 
place in the present life of good Captain "Malou- 
zec, who on the quiet regarded her somewhat in- 
deed as his child, for that very reason that he 
had seen her a chubby baby and that she had 
ever been his favorite, from the time when he 
took so much pleasure in guiding her first falter- 
ing steps. 

And, indeed, if on that day Monsieur Malouzec 
no longer enjoyed the radiant peace of that Sun- 
day morning, it was because to no purpose did 
he await this little friend’s visit. He had scarcely 
caught a glimpse of her since that Chausey family 
had suddenly come upon the scene, claiming the 
right to make ample acquaintance with her and 
monopolizing her completely. 

It was a providential meeting at which there 
was reason to rejoice. Mademoiselle Catherine 
declared. In that manner the child would be- 
come acquainted with her mother’s relatives. 

Yes, it was all right, the captain acknowledged ; 
but, when all by himself, he thought with secret 
pleasure, while at the same time regarding him- 
self as very selfish, that that brilliant family of 
Arlette’s was going to make only a very brief 
stay at Douarnenez. 

And so he repeated to himself over again, 
whilst, seated in the shade of a well-foliaged 
hazel, he was contemplating the verdant perspec- 


44 LITTLE ARLETTE. 

tives of his garden. In the walks around him 
the sun was strewing intense light, spotted here 
and there by the harsh shadow of some branch 
around which insects were buzzing as if intoxi- 
cated with light ; and in the infinite blue of that 
summer sky swallows were wheeling around in 
wild curves, in broad wing-sweeps that seemed to 
carry them toward the palpitating sea. 

The warm breeze that was stirring loaded with 
an indefinable odor of ripe strawberries and of 
lilies, suddenly brought to the captain the noise 
of a distant sound of bells in the church out of 
sight, and he thought : 

“Ere long Catherine, returning from High 
Mass, will bring me news of Arlette, since the 
child is abandoning me 1 ” 

This accusation was a rash judgment ; for all 
of a sudden the captain received proof of this, as 
at that moment appeared on the threshold of the 
house a slender person running down the stone 
steps and in like manner crossing the garden in- 
undated with sunshine. 

“ Good-day, captain,” she exclaimed, mirthfully. 

“ What ! is it you ? you indeed, little queen ? I 
thought you had entirely forgotten me, that you 
were going to set out for the Pilgrimage without 
doing the charity of a flying visit to your old 
friend ! ” 

And he imprisoned Arlette’s whole hand in his 
two big ones. 

“ If you have thought such a thing, captain, 
you are an ingrate ! Only I am quite sure you 
did not think so, for that would be too bad ! In 
a little while we will set out for Kergoat. But 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


45 


I scampered off to come and find you. It was 
too long, indeed, since I had seen you ! And so, 
see how warm I am from having hurried so in 
running hither ! ” 

She raised toward him her young face which a 
wave of blood was empurpling more deeply on 
the cheeks. Toward the roots of her wild hair, 
foaming around her temples, the skin was quite 
moist. At this Monsieur Malouzec felt uneasy. 

“ My little child, you must not on my account 
put yourself in such a state ! I could very well 
have waited one day more, until you had fully 
recovered your liberty. To-morrow, is it not, the 
Chausey family depart from here ? ” 

“ I do not know for certain ! Oh ! captain, I 
would like to see them remain here forever ! It 
is so charming to have them ! And especially 
while Madame Morgane is absent ! ” 

“ How quickly you get smitten, Arlette ! ” he 
remarked, touched with a vague feeling of jeal- 
ousy. 

“ But, captain, they are so amiable to me ! even 
Charlotte’s intended husband ! An officer, you 
know, and quite well-to-do ! He is in great glee 
to marry Charlotte ! ” 

“ I really think so ! At a distance, marriage is 
always an amusing story ! ” 

At a distance ? And at close view ? ” 

“At close view . . . at close view. . . . 

That is according to tastes ! ” stammered the cap- 
tain, feelino: that he had ventured on delicate 

7 O 

ground. 

And so, to turn the course of Arlette’s reffec- 
tions, he asked ; 


46 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


“ And your aunt ? You say nothing of her ! ” 

“ My aunt ? She is excellent. And I already 
love her very much ! ’’ 

“ Well, that takes in all ! You adore the whole 
family, including the intended husband and your 
handsome cousin.” 

“ I do not adore them, I love them ! It is so 
good to love ! But of them all, it is still Guy, I 
think, that I prefer. Captain, he is all right ! ” 

“ All right ? My little child, how enthusiastic 
you are, then, for nothing ! ” 

Arlette bounded out of the rocking armchair 
in which she had been briskly balancing herself. 

“ For nothing ! If you saw Guy, I assure you 
that he would make the same impression on you 
as he has made on me ! He is delightful ! He 
would be perfect if . . .” 

“ If what ? ” 

She resumed her place in the armchair, on the 
way snatching a strawbeiTy into which she sank 
her fine little teeth. 

“ If I were sure that he is not poking fun at 
me!” 

“ He is poking fun at you ! But he must, then, 
be a very poorly bred man. How can he please 
you ? ” 

I am not quite certain that he is poking fun 
at me. Only he has eyes that examine me as a 
curiosity. Is there anything extraordinary about 
me ? Look at me closely, as if you did not know 
me.” 

Conscientiously did the captain look. She 
had stood erect in front of him, quite straight in 
her slender little form, of proportions so har- 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


47 


monious that one would not dream of remarking 
how small they were. The blood flowed under 
the transparent skin, empurpling the lips, and 
the eyes sparkled with a velvet black, question- 
ing, wide open, the old man as he pursued his ex- 
amination. 

“Well, captain, is there anything extraordi- 
nary about me ? ” 

“Nothing at all, my child. But perhaps the 
Paris girls are different from you ! It is perhaps 
on that account that he bestows so much atten- 
tion on you.” 

“Yes, perhaps it is on that account !” she re- 
marked, pensively. “ But yet I hope that his in- 
discreet eyes have not seen in my thought 
that. . . .” 

“That?” 

“ That I find him quite to my idea ! Oh ! 
captain, I understand that people declare young 
folks charming, when they are so lively, so 
pleasant, so amiable, when they kiss their hand 
to you on arriving and leaving, when they have 
seen other towns than Douarnenez, when they 
know lots of things that you do not know ! For 
I am sure that my Cousin Guy knows many 
things that I do not know ! ” 

“Naturally, my little girl, naturally; he has 
studied much more than you.” 

“ But, captain, I do not refer to what he has 
learned from books ! I speak of what one learns 
from . . . from life, of all that I cannot guess 

at.” 

“ Fortunately, for they are things that do not 
concern you, Yrlette.” 


48 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


“ But it is precisely for that reason that I am 
so desirous of knowing them ! Through Guy’s 
eyes, while he is listening to me babbling, all 
sorts of ideas are passing, as I can clearly see. 
And so there are moments when I have a wild 
desire to call out to him : ‘ Of what are you 

thinking ? ’ And then I dare not. . . 

“ Fortunately, my little girl, for he would find 
you very indiscreet ! ” 

The captain’s smiling countenance became 
more embrowned than ever under the influence 
of the shower of praises which fell on that Guy, 
and, with a somewhat discomfited mien, he 
asked : 

‘‘ But, then, how does your Cousin Guy look ? ” 

“ Neither too stout nor too spare, and very tall ! 
taller than you ! and much more so than I ! 
When I speak to him I must raise my nose very 
high to see whether he is listening to me ! ” 

“Arlette, I thought you detested tall per- 
sons ! ” 

“ Women, yes ; but not men ! It is even very 
amusing to find oneself quite small beside them 
and to see that, nevertheless, they submit to 
everything you wish ! ” 

The captain was nervously crushing a small 
clod of earth. 

“ And your lady cousins ? Are you also filled 
with admiration for them ? ” 

Unaffectedly she said : 

“ Think you that they make me very much 
afraid ! They are so well bred, elegant, grace- 
ful, amiable, perfect, in a word, I feel myself a 
sort of savage compared with them ! I a*sk my- 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


49 


self why Guy, accustomed to seeing them, can 
find me pretty ! ” 

“ How do you know that this gentleman finds 
you pretty ? ” remarked Monsieur Malouzec, 
knitting his heavy white eyebrows. 

Triumphantly she replied : 

“ Because he told me so ! ” 

What ! he told you ? Then your cousin is 
an insolent fellow ! ” 

“ Why ? ” she asked, dazed ; “ why ? ’’ 

“ Because it is not the custom . . . because 

one ought not to pay compliments to well-bred 
young ladies. Moreover, my child, young men 
say that to all the women they meet. It is tom- 
foolery to which no attention ought to be paid ! ” 
“ Tomfoolery ? Then, captain, you find me an 
abortion just as Madame Morgane ever pretends 
that I am ? Oh ! no, do not tell me that ! I am 
so happy in thinking that I can be pretty even 
though small and a brunette, even though I have 
disordered hair ! In Paris people have not the 
same tastes as at Douarnenez ! So much the 
better ! ” 

“Arlette, my dear child, do you know that 
you are abominably coquettish ! ” 

“ Is it coquetry to be satisfied when one finds 
you right ? ” 

“ Oh, yes ! ” dogmatically asserted the captain. 
“ Then, so much the worse ! I am a coquette, 
for I am delighted at not being ugly as I 
thought ! Captain, do not scold me ; you would 
be quite as happy as I if, since your childhood, 
you had heard yourself treated as an insignificant 
person, worth nothing at all, good only for do- 


50 


LTTTLE ARLETTE. 


ing stupid things and for being scolded after- 
ward ! You would find it delightful to learn 
that you are nothing of all of that, and you 
would say with me : ‘ Long live coquetry ! ’ ” 

And Arlette, prettier than ever, balanced her- 
self triumphantly in her vast armchair. 

But at that very moment there arose in the 
garden a woman’s voice, loud and ringing : 

“ For goodness’ sake ! What do I hear ? Y^ves, 
are you listening to your daughter? She will 
scandalize Monsieur de Pazanne.” 

Jumping up, Arlette turned around. A few 
steps away Mademoiselle Catherine was ap- 
proaching, wearing her' prettiest headdress, car- 
rying her prayer-book under her arm, and ac- 
companied not only by Doctor Morgane, but by 
Guy himself. 

“What, cousin, you here?” she remarked, in 
amazement, — but not sorry. 

“Yes, myself in person! Monsieur Morgane 
stopped me on the way, and Mademoiselle Ma- 
louzec was so amiable as to authorize me to come 
in search of you along with your father.” 

“ In search of me ? ” 

“ Just so. We come to carry you off to break- 
fast with us before setting out for the Pilgrim- 
age.” 

“Father, you will come also to Kergoat?” 
she asked, already gleeful. 

“ No, dear, I cannot. I will meet you again 
this evening. It is your aunt who has asked this 
foi ou.” 



He laid his hand on the young brown head. 
But Arlette, quickly breaking away, tenderly 


LITTLE AELETTE. 


61 


drew that hand under her lips. Then she took 
to chatting with Guy; and the captain smoth- 
ered a sigh of resignation. 

He hardly suspected that this terrible Parisian 
would, a few moments later, conquer him in his 
turn, by admiring his flowers. 

The miracle was performed nevertheless ; and 
when, a quarter of an hour after, Guy de Pa- 
zanne left the garden in which grew splendid 
lilies and strawberries, the good captain no 
longer considered as an enemy that handsome 
young man who had suddenly sprung out of 
Paris to fill a little girl’s brain. And so he could 
find no answer to make when, the time having- 
come for leaving, his friend Arlette whispered to 
him in a meaning tone : 

“ Is it not so, captain, that you also find my 
Cousin Guy all right ? ” 


CHAPTER lY. 


Seated between her two lady cousins, Arlette 
was carried along on the Kergoat road in a 
break that rolled well, having been chosen by 
Guy, a connoisseur if there ever was one. 

“ It is for you, Arlette, to show us your Brit- 
tany,” pleasantly remarked Madame Chausey, 
who had been conquered from the first meeting 
by the radiant youth of this little girl whose 
mother she had really loved much and whom she 
felt herself quite ready to love also, so much the 
more as she was altogether very sensible and es- 
sentially good. With a smile on her lips did she 
listen to her chatting, archly narrating the minor 
incidents of her daily life, thus giving up to all 
questions the secret of her young thought, with 
that unaffected and original frankness which 
Guy found so savory and which he relished with 
the pleasure of an over-sated man meeting on his 
way some unwonted treat. Without seeming to 
do so, he yet managed to contradict her a little, 
to call in question the orthodoxy of the legends 
which she related, to be astonished at her deep 
sympathy for seamen, “her seamen,” as she 
called them ; all that discreetly, but enough for 
him to have the enjoyment of seeing her rise in 
rebellion and ardently defend her opinions. All 
of a sudden, moreover, at a word from him that 
52 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


53 


made her thought deviate, she interrupted his 
pleadings to question him in his turn, regarding 
Paris especially, the name of which seemed to 
awaken in her mind the vision of some splendid 
city like to a dream city. As Guy guessed, she 
would not have been more surprised at seeing in 
it, in the guise of houses, palaces surrounded by 
fairy gardens, decorated with fountains of gush- 
ing water, with iridescent reflexes, walks shaded 
with those trees which she loved so much, in 
which moved men and women who were all rich, 
all happy, all finding life an exquisite feast, 
worthy of being deemed such. 

“ I am sure,” he said, laughing, “ you suppose 
that in Paris there is never either rain, or mud, 
or other annoyances of that sort ? ” 

“ There are ? I had never thought of that ! ” 
she remarked in a tone mimicking that of a child 
before whose eyes one would darken a picture 
that had been luminous. 

“ Yes, there are. As there are everywhere de- 
testable men and women, crying children, smok- 
ing chimneys.” 

“ My goodness, Guy, what an enumeration ! ” 
interrupted Madame Chausey, who was as much 
amused at her brother’s affected seriousness as at 
Arlette’s mien. “ Do not rob this child of her 
illusions.” 

“ The fact is that illusions are not among the 
objects that it is possible to find again once they 
have been lost. Cousin, be very prudent and 
very wise, then, in carefully keeping yours. 
After all, I would be a veritable ingrate were I 
to speak ill of Paris ! It is a delightful city^ as 


54 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


delight fill as you imagine it, and it surpasses 
your Brittany by I know not how many ells ! ” 

“ Oh ! not so ! ” she rejoined, indignantly. 
“Your Paris may be beautiful, but not more so 
than my Brittany ! Look at it here, even, and 
dare to tell me the contrary ! Look at the sea, 
my friend the sea ! For it is truly my friend. 
Both of us understand each other so well ! Like 
a person, it understands me. I speak to it of all 
that I love, I tell it what I desire, what I am ex- 
pecting, what I hope for and what I wish. And 
it answers me in the song of its waves, always as 
I wish that it should answer me. Ah ! the sea, I 
adore it ! ” 

Madeleine looked at Arlette, somewhat sur- 
prised. This little creature, enthusiastic and vi- 
brating, not cast in the customary mould of 
young girls, disconcerted her a little ; and she 
smiled at hearing her answer in the same tone of 
conviction a word from Guy : 

“ This evening you will see what my friend the 
sea is in the setting sun ! You will see. . . 

“Well, we shall all see,” interposed Madame 
Chausey. “ But, for the moment, is it not time 
to go see the Pilgrimage ? Guy, tell the driver 
to hurry up. If we delay so, we shall get there 
when everything is over ! ” 

Ho mishap was to be feared, Arlette asserted, 
and she had wide experience on this point. 
Moreover, Kergoat was not far oif. A few vil- 
lages more left behind, then, indistinctly at first, 
but becoming more distinct with the passing of 
every moment, there appeared the verdant mass 
of the tiny wood that enveloped the chapel of 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


55 


Kergoat. Already stood out more clearly its 
foliaged peaks, its branches casting patches of 
shadow on the crowd that encumbered not 
only the road, not only the wood, but even 
the little cemetery quite close to the chapel, 
where the tombs were hidden under the tall 
grass. 

For the pilgrims were numerous, of every age, 
of both sexes, of every costume, filling the covert 
of trees with a gladsome murmur in which Avere 
fraternally mingled — the hour for the procession 
not having yet arriA^ed — the guttural sonorous- 
ness of Breton Avords, the exclamations of the 
drinkers at table in front of the only tavern, the 
stamping of the horses and asses tied here and 
there, close to road Avagons, the appeals of ven- 
ders selling playthings for the little ones, bon- 
bons and candles for all. 

In the cemetery, as in the Avalks bathed in 
sunshine, there Avas a variegated croAvd ; the 
men all av earing broad-brimmed felt hats ; those 
of Douarnenez clad in a pale blue vest hemmed 
Avith black velvet, grey trousers striped in squares 
of subdued pattern ; those of Pont-l’Abbe Avear- 
ing short vests of black cloth, embroidered in 
gold color; those of Plougastel having on the 
back of their vests a large picture of the 
‘‘ Blessed Sacrament.” 

There Avere pilgrims there Avho, coming from 
very remote villages, had walked all night so as 
to be able to attend Mass in the morning ; and 
Avearied, noAV that the desire to arrive no longer 
sustained them, they had sat doAvn Avherever they 
could find a place, on the grass-tufted mounds of 


56 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


the wood, on the porch steps. Even on the 
tombs, made of long flat stones, mothers were 
suckling their infants, while around them larger 
children, funny looking in their skirts that fell 
to their feet, quite puffed in consequence of a 
very tight waist, were devouring beautiful car- 
mine apples, their round faces blooming under 
the straw and linen caps that covered their hair. 
Young girls, with their faces nimbused by their 
headdress, were laughing sweetly with the boys 
who stood around them ; and through the groups 
were wandering infirm beggars, monstrously 
ugly, who were loudly displaying their wretched- 
ness under the trickling of the light that fell from 
that clear August sky. 

Led by Arlette, who knew her people and skil- 
fully slipped her spare person into the crowd, 
Madame Chausey and her daughters, in spite of 
the presence of so very many tourists as had al- 
ready arrived, succeeded in finding places on a 
sort of slope that overlooked the very entrance 
to the chapel. Thanks to the seats that the 
young folks had procured for them, they were 
awaiting without the slightest fatigue the mo- 
ment when the bell announcing the procession 
would be rung, amused by the picturesqueness of 
the scene that was delighting them. Guy was 
the very first to be alive to it, and, with a ready 
crayon, he was sketching, as they passed, those 
curious shadows, considering the Pilgrimage from 
a point of view that somewhat astonished Arlette ; 
for to her, a Breton in her soul, the Pilgrimage 
was indeed a religious feast. 

“ Why do you look at me so ? ” he remarked, 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 57 

his curiosity roused by the expression of the 
childish eyes fixed on him. 

“ Because you seem as if preparing to witness 
a play ! ” she acknowledged, spontaneously. 

“ And is it not a show that is awaiting us, or 
rather that we are awaiting ? ” 

“ Not at all, but a procession.” 

A slight flame had darted from her pupils. 
And Guy, the skeptical and curious Parisian, sud- 
denly had the exquisite intuition, considering his 
over-sated taste, of what a truly young soul was, 
ardent in its faith. 

“ I have scandalized you,” he said, “ I earnestly 
beg your pardon for it. It did not occur to me 
that you will henceforward have a detestable 
opinion of me ! ” 

“ Oh ! no. Only I think that you are not very 
pious ! ” 

He began to laugh heartily, while Madame 
Chausey replied : 

“ You are quite right, Arlette, to think so ; Guy 
is a great miscreant. He would do well to think 
of his salvation, for unless he does he runs great 
risk of meeting a very sad fate in the next world ! ” 

Arlette, somewhat confused, looked now at 
Guy and now at her aunt, but at Guy especially, 
astonished that one could be so little affected in 
the presence of a prospect like that pointed out 
by Madame Chausey ; and, incapable of contain- 
ing her thought, she asked : 

“ You are not frightened, cousin, at the idea 
that you may be broiled forever ? ” 

“ But I sincerely hope that I will not quite 
merit a fate that seems to frighten you ! ” 


58 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


“ That frightens me ! It fills me with a terri- 
ble fear when I think of it, in the evening, be- 
fore going to sleep, especially on days when there 
have been storms with Madame Morgane. For- 
tunately, during the day 1 regain confidence ! ” 

‘‘Well, then,” replied Guy, with affected grav- 
ity, “ you are not a good Christian.” 

"“I!” she remarked, astonished and vaguely 
uneasy. 

“ Look here, Guy, do not tease her,” Madame 
Chausey interposed. “ She cannot know that 
you are joking ! ” 

“You were joking? Oh! so much the bet- 
ter ! ” 

She did not continue. A ringing of bells was 
suddenly wafted through the air, which it ani- 
mated with deep vibrations. An eddy was at • 
once produced in the crowd of pilgrims kneeling 
on the cemetery grass since the ceremonies had 
begun. The chapel door had just been opened, 
giving a glimpse, in the shadow of its depths, of 
a sparkling of lights, of candles that, borne by 
the faithful whom one could not distinguish, 
seemed like wandering stars shedding flashes on 
the altar gildings. 

“You are going to see,” said Arlette to Guy, 
who was standing beside her; “the boys are 
about to bring out the banners. As the door is 
rather low and as those banners are very tall and 
heavy, the boys will take a spring and come out 
running, so as to set them upright with a single 
effort. If they succeed without having to try 
again, that wins them a very good mark for later 
on, when they want to get married ! ” 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


59 


“ Indeed ? AVell, then, let us look.” 

The whole multitude also were looking, begin- 
ning with Charlotte and Pierre, who had taken 
the precaution to get instantaneous views of the 
whole scene with his kodak ; and the many little 
Breton girls were also watching, contemplating 
that scene with attentive eyes, curiosity lighting 
up the naturally grave expression of their coun- 
tenances. One, two, three banners appeared in 
succession under the cramped vault of the porch. 
The boys, tall, well-built youths, had to exert 
themselves to set them up slowly. Two had to 
try again several times, with wavering move- 
ments that made the reddened gilt fringes palpi- 
tate in space. But a third, with a single effort, 
raised in the air the heavy staff from which 
floated, on a background of red-tinted velvet, the 
gorgeous picture of St. Anne, superbly attired in 
a dress interwoven with gold. 

A murmur of approbation ran through the 
crowd. Then a meditative silence pervaded the 
pilgrims. The procession began ; and already 
there started in line the section of the young 
girls, dressed in heavy white muslin, with blue 
belts, and bonnets sparkling with spangles such 
as hoiorledens wear, holding in one hand their 
hymn-books, in the other one of the azured, rose- 
hued, bright yellow gauze oriflammes, undulating 
in the sun, like gigantic butterflies with outspread 
wings. 

They passed along slowly, their eyes bent on 
the ground or fixed on their half-open books. Be- 
hind them came the boys of Douarnenez, of Pont- 
I’-Abbe, of Chateaulin, of Plougastel, forming a 


60 


LITTLE A K LETTS. 


guard of honor to the banners floating high 
above; and their countenances had the serious 
expression of believing and honest-minded be- 
ings. Following them there advanced old men 
who had preserved the hragou bras costume, old 
men of Ohouan mien, their heads uncovered, 
their white hair flowing long over their wrinkled 
necks. Between their fingers those in front 
were devoutly telling their beads, while at the 
same time carrying candles the flame of which 
seemed quite pale in the intense brightness of the 
sun. But those bringing up the rear, preceding 
the clergy, whose white surplices were already 
to be seen, timed their slow march to the sound 
of clarinet and tamborine ; and the shrill notes 
were lost in the sonorous chant of the bells ring- 
ing incessantly. At last there appeared, raised 
on a sort of throne, the miraculous Yirgin who, 
as she passed, made the Breton heads bow — much 
more than those of the curious strangers. 

Arlette piously knelt; her lady cousins bent 
their heads. Guy continued to look on as an 
artist and in dilettante fashion, insatiable, taking 
in every detail of costume of the girls carrying 
the statue. AYith their high headdress be- 
sprinkled with spangles, their brown and emo- 
tionless faces, their bodices trimmed with em- 
broidery, they had the appearance of Indian idols, 
even while defiling solemnly, in the rustling of 
their silk aprons with large odd-looking flowers 
that almost entirely enveloped their white robes 
with pendant belt, covered with silver ara- 
besques. 

With heavy and measured tread they were 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


61 


now moving away. Behind them the multitude 
of pilgrims defiled, candle and rosary in hand, 
even the smallest of them, entangled in their long 
skirts ; and the unrolling of the procession was 
continued under the trees, enclosing in a human 
circle the old chapel, whose vaults had heard so 
many prayers. 

“ Is the procession not going to return ? ” 
Charlotte asked. 

“Yes, it will pass once more in front of us; 
and then it will be ended.” 

It will be ended ! A sort of unconscious re- 
gret was palpitating in these words of Arlette. 
What, then, was it that was going to end ? Was 
it only the Pilgrimage? Was it the procession 
that was coming nearer now, preserving the 
same grave and slow gait? Was it not espe- 
cially that afternoon the memory of which she 
confusedly felt that she would ever keep, as of 
those enchanting dreams which she sometimes 
had and the details of which remained graven 
in her young girl’s brain ? 

“ Of what are you thinking, Arlette ? ” Guy 
asked, astonished at the pensive expression which 
suddenly transformed that childish countenance 
into that of a woman. 

“ I am thinking it is very sad that the hours 
are passing so quickly, so quickly ! I would like 
so much that this afternoon would last a long 
time yet ! ” 

With curiosity he asked : 

“You are so" much in love with the Pilgrim- 
age ? ” 

“It is not the Pilgrimage that I regret so 


62 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


much to see ended ; it is your visit. To-morrow 
you will leave.’’ 

‘‘ Yes, to-morrow. But we will find each other 
again, I sincerely hope.” 

“You will return to Douarnenez ? ” she re- 
marked doubtingly. 

“ Perhaps so ... to see you ! But it 
would be better were you to come and make 
the acquaintance of our Paris, of which we will 
do you the honors as you have done to us those 
of your Brittany ! Moreover, if for nothing 
else than politeness, you ought to return our 
visit ! ” 

“ Ah ! if I could ! I assure you that I would 
not have to be begged to go ! ” 

He smiled at hearing her speak so ardently; 
and, as Madame Chausey called them, he made 
her get up into the break that was to bring them 
back by way of Locronan, the dead little town 
which of old had been an important city. Now 
it had nothing more in its favor than the pictur- 
esqueness of its old church, in which was piously 
honored the bishop St. Konan, and of its few 
loftly stone houses, most of them half crumbling 
under the rank verdure. They visited it as in- 
defatigable tourists. Then, as the hour was ad- 
vancing, it was necessary to set out again ; and 
once more the carriage rolled along the road 
that skirted the coast between tufted hedges 
scenting of honeysuckle. They also scented the 
sea, now quite close, by the keener breath of the 
breeze, by the more slender shadow of the trees, 
bent toward the ground by the eternal winds 
from the deep. And all of a sudden, in front of 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


63 


them, after a last bend in the road, the bay was 
unfolded in its radiant extent, hemmed in to- 
ward the north by the heights of the Menez-Hom 
and extending to rejoin the infinite of the ocean 
under the purple clearness of the setting sun, 
which betorched the distance. Softly caressed 
by these fiery gleams, the waves were undulating, 
rocking, iridescent with changing tints falling 
from the limpid sky, where a pioneer star was 
already shining. 

Arlette uttered an exclamation : 

“ Tell me whether I have deceived you ! Is it 
not even more beautiful at this hour than a little 
while ago ? Let us go down to the beach ! Will 
you ? ” 

They followed her, all dominated, according 
to their nature, by the charm of that admirable 
ending of the day, and they stopped there only 
where the waves came up to wet the sand, dis- 
tilling in the freshened air their saline vapor, 
which impregnated the lips. 

Arlette especially enjoyed the spectacle with 
all the fibres of her enthusiastic and vibrating 
nature; and, her voice somewhat muffled, she 
said to Guy, instinctively sure of being under- 
stood by him : 

‘‘ Is it not good to feel this beauty ? Oh ! 
look at that wave quite rosy . . . and so 

limber! And that one! How majestic it is! 
It has a veritable mantle of gold and silver, the 
mantle of Dahut.” 

“ Of Dahut ! ” 

“The king of Ys’s daughter!” she explained, 
with an astonished motion of the eyebrows, at 


64 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


the idea that he could be ignorant of a legend 
which was so familiar to her. 

“ You will tell me her history ? ” 

“Yes, in a little while, in the carriage. Now 
let me fully admire at my ease. It is all the 
same for you to wait, is it not ? ” 

“ Quite so,’’ he said, smiling at her prayerful 
tone. 

He was looking direct at her close to him, her 
eyes sparkling, her lips open to the full pure 
breath that was coming from the deep and was 
lighting up with rose-color the gilded whiteness 
of her charming countenance. He surmised the 
existence in that little girl of a moral world, 
shut out from him for a long time past, a world 
peopled with juvenile ideas, fresh, all perfumed 
with poesy, adorably unaffected; ideas such as 
cannot be had by most of the young girls of 
Paris, whom real life brushes too closely to leave 
them in full enjoyment of delightful ignorances ; 
ideas that come to those alone who live in a soli- 
tude where dreaming ever sees the gate wide 
open to it. 

And a regret took hold of him for not being 
able to penetrate a little into that unknown ; for 
it must be a charming thing to pry — ah ! how 
delicately — into that new thought, into that new 
soul, a pleasure which he would no longer taste, 
as to-morrow he would go away. 

After all, it was much better, perhaps, that it 
was so. And so he would have no disillusion 
and could keep of his little Breton cousin a per- 
fumed memory, like the honeysuckle odors which 
she wore in her belt the first day he had seen her. 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


f>5 


“Well, my children,” Madame Chausey called, 
for she had remained a little behind, “ are we 
not going to leave ? It is beginning to get cold.” 

With docility Madeleine obeyed. The be- 
trothed followed her mechanically. Quite taken 
up with each other, how had they seen the ad- 
mirable spectacle ? Through what thoughts and 
what hopes ? 

Arlette, who had returned on hearing her 
aunt’s voice, took them in with an attentive and 
astonished glance. 

And from Guy’s lips there darted anew a ques- 
tion suggested by that look : 

“ What is the matter ? A¥hy do you so con- 
template Charlotte and Pierre ? Are you think- 
ing that, in the presence of your friend the sea 
they were only profane, unworthy of looking at 
it?” 

“IN'o, it is not that. No. . . .” 

“ What, then ? M^ould it be very indiscreet to 
ask you ? ” 

“ Oh, no ! I was thinking that Charlotte 
seemed very happy at the prospect of mar- 
riage ! ” 

“ But, be it well understood, she is so ! Why 
should she not be ? ” 

“ Because it is very wearisome to be married ! 
One must keep accounts, supervise the kitchen, 
the washing, scold the servants, become worried 
after the children, tell disagreeable things to 
one’s husband, unless one tells him nothing at 
all, which is perhaps still more wearisome.” 

“ What then ? Great heavens ! What a strange 
opinion you have of marriage ! Where have you 


66 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


learned that it brings to the woman the obliga- 
tions which you lavish on her so generously ?” 

“I have seen clearly what my stepmother 
does ; and so . . 

“And so you would not like to get mar- 
ried ! ” 

“ Certainly not ! I find all the men of Dou- 
arnenez detestable and ugly — except my father 
and the captain ! and except the fishermen, al- 
most all of whom I love ! And then Madame 
Morgane says that men are liars, that they al- 
ways make their wives very unhappy, that they 
are tyrants who make them weep. And all that 
because of Eve ! ” 

“ Why of Eve ? ” queried Guy, moved by an ir- 
resistible desire to laugh. 

“ Oh, yes ! Madame Morgane pretends that 
we have to expiate her disobedience, we poor 
women. Only, as far as I am concerned, I have 
no desire at all to expiate ! This is why I will 
make quite sure not to get married ! AVhy do 
you laugh ? Is it because I have said something 
very ridiculous ? It is not polite to laugh so at 
young girls ! ” 

She had that almost imperceptible frowning of 
the eyebrows which gave a sudden expression of 
energy to her mute countenance. 

“ I am not laughing at you, Arlette, I would 
not allow myself to do so,” Guy replied, hastily, 
striving to become serious again. “ I am only a 
little . . . astonished by Madame Morgan e’s 

opinions on conjugal life, considered from the 
. . . expiatory point of view.” 

“Why?” 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


CT 


“ Because they are rather . . . unex- 

pected.” 

“Unexpected? It is not, then, all the real 
truth that Madame Morgane tells?” 

“ That is to say, she seems to me rather severe 
in her judgments, and all the poor men do 
not deserve to be so given up to the eternal 
bow-wows. Ask Charlotte what she thinks 
of it.” 

“What I think of what?” questioned the 
young gill, who had casually overheard Guy’s 
words. 

“ We are going to tell j^ou that in the carriage. 
Arlette has information to ask of you.” 

And Arlette, without ceremony, put to her 
cousin a series of questions that had for their 
effect to bring to the young betrothed’s lips the 
most reassuring declarations, which Arlette took 
in with extreme attention and an interest no less 
marked. Evidently it was no longer disagree- 
able to her that the male sex was good only to 
unite in a universal condemnation. 

Madame Chausey was listening, very much 
amused : 

“ Arlette, do you know what must be done to 
be well convinced that Charlotte does not expect 
to be inevitably unhappy ? ” 

“ What is it, aunt ? ” 

“ It is necessary to be present at her mar- 
riage ! ” 

Arlette raised astonished eyes toward Madame 
Chausey. 

“ To be present at Charlotte’s marriage ! Oh ! 
that would give me pleasure — the greatest pleas- 


68 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


ure ! But it is not possible, since she will not 
get married at Douarnenez.” 

“No, indeed. But if the mountain does not 
come to Mohammed, Mohammed can go to the 
mountain. You, my dear, can very well come 
to Paris to Charlotte’s marriage.” 

She was startled, her eyes radiant : 

“ To go to Paris ! Oh ! ” 

“ You will be satisfied at doing so ?” 

“ Oh, yes ! ever so much ! Oh ! ever so 
much ! ” 

“ Yery well, it would give us ‘ever so much’ 
pleasure to receive you that we must positively 
succeed in having you . . .” 

“And Arlette will be one of my maids of 
honor,” concluded Charlotte, amiably. 

“ How amusing it would be ! How good you 
are to invite me so ! ” 

And impetuously Arlette lavished warm, 
happy, childish kisses on her aunt’s and her lady 
cousins’ cheeks. 

“Then it is agreed. This evening, little Ar- 
lette, we will arrange the matter with your 
father, so that we ma}^ carry off, when leaving, 
the promise of your visit for next winter.” 

“ Yes ! But, my goodness ! I did not think of 
it. My father could not come ! and it is impossi- 
ble for me to leave him ! I know that he would 
be sad without his ‘ little child,’ as he calls me ; 
and I do not want him to be sad on my ac- 
count ! ” 

“Well, we will tear him away from his pa- 
tients, that is all!” Guy declared, in a good- 
humored tone, desiring to bring back gayety to 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


69 


the clouded young countenance. “ In this way 
you will have no excuse for refusing us your visit.” 

“ Do you really think that father will consent 
to leave his patients to get well of themselves ? ” 
she asked, ardently. 

“ Oh, yes ! lie ... he Avill leave an 
agreeable fellow-practitioner in his place. And 
everything will be arranged with wonderful 
ease ! ” 

Like a child, she clapped her hands. 

“Oh! it will be delightful! We will be so 
happy, he and I, both of us alone together, with- 
out having to fear being scolded by Madame 
Morgane ! ” 

They began to laugh at this outburst of jo}^ on 
the part of Arlette. But she took no notice of 
it. The sudden prospect of that journey was so 
attractive to her that she forgot for a moment 
her regret at seeing the day drawn to a close. 

Now the break had entered Douarnenez, which 
was quite animated on account of the return from 
the Pilgrimage, and was approaching the doctor’s 
house. A carriage had stopped in front of the 
gate, and the gardener was taking down some 
trunks from it. 

“ For God’s sake,” remarked Arlette, excitedly, 
“has Madame Morgane perchance returned al- 
ready ? ” 

She jumped out of the break and entered the 
garden. In front of the stone steps a tall woman, 
of rather vulgar appearance, was talking in a dry 
and rude tone to Anaik, who had pulled in her 
horns and was receiving without protest the hail- 
storm of words that fell on her ; a lecturing that 


70 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


seemed to be approved by a dull, listless young 
girl with a basket in her hands. 

“You say that the doctor has ordered dinner 
for eight o’clock only, so that his Arlette may 
have full time to return, without hurrying, from 
the Pilgrimage. Well, I tell you, I do, my girl, 
that you are going to prepare and serve dinner 
immediately, for I am the only mistress here — 
you understand me ? It would be really delight- 
ful to see me wait for a brat of a girl who goes 
away to play princess with her hne relatives 
from Paris. Let them keep her until evening, 
since they have taken her away. As for me, I 
do not wait. It would be quite silly in me to 
})ut myself out for folks who choose the moment 
when I am not here to come and distract them- 
selves and dine in my house. Ah ! it is a good 
idea to arrive so unexpectedly. One must take 
account of many things.” 

“ What things ? ” Arlette’s clear voice was 
heard to ask. “ Indeed, if it is of that you would 
take account, we did not expect you at all to- 
day ! ” 

Madame Morgane turned around, and a veri- 
table stupor was painted on her sullen counte- 
nance when she saw Madame Chausey, her 
daughters and the two young men reveal them- 
selves in her presence. 

“Madame Morgane, no doubt?” remarked 
Madame Chausey. 

Arlette’s stepmother mechanically bowed her 
head ; and Madame Chausey, perceiving her 
dazed silence, continued in a tone of cold and 
perfect politeness : 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


71 


“You will kindly excuse us, madam, if we 
are using the authority given to us by Monsieur 
Morgane to take all the advantage possible of his 
little daughter’s presence, during our brief stay 
at Douarnenez ; and we ask your permission to 
keep her until evening, as to-morrow we leave.” 

“ Do as you see fit, madam,” remarked Ma- 
dame Morgane, who was too dazed by the sudden- 
ness of the meeting to have even the idea of 
showing her authority. “ Moreover, Arlette will 
be delighted to find her sister and myself, as late 
as possible ! She has so much affection for us ! ” 

No one, not even Arlette, though so given to 
ready retorts, took up Madame Morgane’s slur. 
But when they were in the street, Guy remarked, 
philosophically : 

“ No one can reproach Madame Morgane with 
not doing herself justice when she recognized that 
Aiiette had no desire to find herself again with 
her. lleav^ens ! little Arlette, how I understand 
you on this point ! ” 

“is it not so ? It is a great pity that she did 
not remain longer at Chateaulin. We were so 
happy during the past ten days, papa, the boys 
and I, without her or Blanche, who resembles 
her ... so much ! Now, I am very much 
afraid that she will not travel again the whole 
winter ! ” 

“But it is you who will travel! Have you 
forgotten already that you are going to come to 
see us ? If Madame Morgane seems to you al- 
ways at that time in a mood so far from attract- 
ive^ we will keep you. Nothing is more simple. 
It is a matter agreed upon 1 ” 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


Y2 


“ A matter agreed upon ! ” she repeated, with 
a happy and pleasant smile. 

****** 

“You will come to see us, and we will keep 
you.” 

They made sure to hammer these words into 
her mind, on the morrow of that memorable day 
of the Pilgrimage, whilst, in the evening, seated 
alone in the silent garden, she took up again, one 
by one, the incidents that had marked the brief 
stay at Douarnenez of Madame Chausey, her 
daughters and Guy. They were all gone now. 
She treasured her recollections as she would have 
cherished a treasure on which she was to live for 
months and months. Especially at that moment 
did the scene of the departure come back to her 
with strange vividness. She still felt on her 
countenance the affectionate kisses of her aunt 
and of Charlotte, the delicate touch of Made- 
leine’s lips ; she recalled the friendl}’^ pressure of 
Pierre’s fingers; and, still more, she kept the 
impression of her hand imprisoned in that of 
Guy, so firm and at the same time so nimble ; 
she heard him reply to her, as she said “adieu ” — 

“No, not adieu, but au revoir. We will ex- 
pect you in Paris for Charlotte’s marriage. 
Your father has promised you to us ! ” 

Was it possible, indeed, that she would make 
that journey ? It seemed to her somewhat like 
those marvelous dreams that spring up in the 
imagination of the very young, so marvelous 
that one dare not even believe in them ! 

And yet, why should she not go to find them 


LITTLE AELETTE. 


73 


again for a moment, all of them who had been 
good to her, so good that never would she be 
able to forget them ... oh ! never ! 

Her eyes lost in the clear shade of that summer 
night, bespangled with stars, she was thinking, 
seeking to guess what indeed might be brought 
to her by the future that was approaching. She 
had no fear of it : on the contrary ! Did not 
life seem to her as luminous as an orchard in 
bloom under the springtime sun? And, filled 
with a confident joy, she awaited it, she called 
it, that beneficent future : she desired it, hav- 
ing faith in its mysterious promises, offering to 
it her whole youth, unaffectedly certain that it 
would enlighten her with a nameless brightness. 


CHAPTEE Y. 


September, October had passed. It was now 
genuine winter time, was that afternoon. The 
day was quickly declining, quite embrowned by 
a penetrating November fog which at the hori- 
zon was confounding sea and sky in one and the 
same grey and sombre tint, intensely melancholy, 
calculated to oppress even well-seasoned souls. 

And more than any one was Doctor Morgane 
disposed to feel its effects, while he was return- 
ing toward Douarnenez, wearied by visits at a 
distance, in secluded hamlets. Of old he had 
borne without difficulty the weight of such jour- 
neys ; but, as he had said to Guy de Pazanne, he 
was an old man before his time. In him the 
moral had used up the physical ; and he felt 
himself overwhelmed by an infinite weariness — 
that which men oppressed by life know too well 
— during that close of an afternoon which ended 
for him like to all the rest, without his having in 
his thoughts the fortifying vision of a fireside at 
which he would be awaited and loved. With 
the exception of Arlette, who wished his presence 
in his own house ? Not the apathetic Blanche, 
cold as her mother, not the boys, at that time in 
the Quimper high school ; not Madame Morgane, 
absorbed in her own personality. 

Certainly, when he had married her, fifteen 
years before, he had not entertained for a second 
74 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


75 


the hope or even tlie desire of adapting himself 
to a new life that might bring him even a shadow 
of happiness. An indifference without bounds 
henceforward penetrated him in regard to every^ 
thing that touched him alone. But faithfully 
had he shut his soul and his thoughts against the 
dear past that had fled beyond recall, resolved to 
do all in his power to make happy the young 
girl who accepted the duty of becoming Arlette’s 
mother. He had married her because he thought 
her gentle and good, compassionate in regard to 
the incurable wound with which she knew him 
to be afflicted. But she was nothing of all that. 
There was in her only a frozen soul and a narrow 
mind served by a tenacious will that no power 
was able to conquer. Of humble origin, the 
granddaughter and daughter of fishermen en- 
riched by trade, she had, while still a child, re- 
solved to be one day “ a lady,” as she said ; and 
with indefatigable patience and perseverance she 
had gradually taken advantage of all circum- 
stances to bring Doctor Morgane to think of her. 

Into his house she had at last entered, her am- 
bition satisfied, secretly triumphant, strong in the 
unacknowledged thought that she would be ab- 
solute mistress there by reason of the rights that 
her money assured to her, for she came there 
with many jingling crowns, when the only ones 
the doctor had were the revenues of his profes- 
sion. Hever had she forgotten their difference 
of fortune ! Only, since a very serious scene, 
which was enacted after many others, she no 
longer chanced the slightest allusion to this sub- 
ject ; and, on certain other occasions, there came 


76 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


back to her distinctly vibrating in her ear the 
words of her husband declaring that never, either 
for himself or for Arlette, would he touch a cent 
of that fortune the importance of which she had, 
openly this time, thrown in his teeth. 

And every day more distinctly was the moral 
separation between them made more acute. Be- 
side each other, they had lived as strangers whom 
no bond of sympathy even could bring together ; 
he, giving himself up entirely to his profession, 
devoting himself to it with a sort of passion as if 
to escape himself ; she, imperious mistress in the 
house, authoritative and exacting after the man- 
ner of vulgar natures, careful to assert her will 
on every occasion, sullenly, but deeply jealous of 
Arlette — jealous for her daughter, for she re- 
garded her as of a different species from that ele- 
gant and fine little creature, who was irresistibly 
attractive ; jealous also of the very strong bond 
which she suspected to exist between father and 
orphan child. Moreover, at every moment her 
instincts of domination became exasperated in 
the presence of Arlette’s independent vivacity, 
for the girl’s originality shocked all her ideas of 
a positive woman devoid of the slightest atom of 
imagination. 

Whence came continual clashes, especially in 
the doctor’s absence, between stepmother and 
stepdaughter; the one rude, aggressive, easily 
provoked to violence; the other prone to take 
umbrage, all at once excited to anger in the pres- 
ence of a tyrannical will that was revolting to 
her and that she bore with silent impatience, 
quite shuddering, and only out of tenderness for 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


77 


her father. Xevertheless, by reason of a genuine 
heavenly grace, Arlette did not, on the whole, 
suffer in any way from this difficult situation. 
There was in her, indeed, a fund of native energy 
and elasticity, an intensity of life, of youth, of 
gayety, that never allowed her to become de- 
jected under the malevolent attacks of her step- 
mother ; and she kept it up, resolute and bold, 
like a little fighting cock. 

But, once her father disappeared, what would 
then become of her ? And therein lay the in- 
cessant fear that was torturing Doctor Morgane 
since he saw becoming more serious the symp- 
toms of his heart disease. This was the terrible 
anguish of his long sleepless nights, when one of 
the crises whose secret he kept obliged him 
to remain sitting up for hours so that the air 
might the better penetrate into his poor halting 
chest. 

And afresh, on that day, he thought of this 
menacing future, whilst, with an instinctive im- 
pulse, he directed his horse on the deserted road 
on which was heard quite distinctly the rum- 
bling of the carriage. But Douarnenez appeared, 
the nearest houses throwing out in profile mass- 
ive shadows into the mist, which was feebly 
furrowed by the glimmers cast here and there 
from the windows with still open shutters. 

The doctor stopped his carriage in front of 
Mademoiselle Malouzec’s low little shop, from 
which escaped, through the window panes, a pale 
and trembling light ; and he entered. 

“ Eh ! it is you, Y ves ? ” remarked Mademoi- 
selle Malouzec, whose countenance lit up with a 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


Y8 

cordial smile of \velcome. And she laid doAvn 
her knitting to clasp the doctor’s hand. 

‘‘ Good-evening, Catherine.” 

“Good-evening; you have done well to come 
in. My brother will be happy to see you. lie 
was complaining of not having received your 
visit to-day.” 

“ Does his rheumatism make him suffer more ? ” 

“ The fog is bad for him, and he is weary of 
being a prisoner in the house. The days spent 
without going out are interminable to him. But, 
in reality, he is more in need of the friend than 
of the physician.” 

She spoke in a sonorous voice which the Bre- 
ton accent rendered somewhat guttural; and, 
leaving the shop to the care of the little servant 
girl, she went through the passage that led to the 
dwelling, guiding the doctor toward her brother. 

The latter, who was dozing, his afflicted limb 
stretched in front of the blazing fire, turned his 
head as they entered. 

“ Morgane, my old friend, I was beginning to 
think that you were forgetting your poor inva- 
lid, like Arlette, moreover, who has not made 
her appearance, even for a second.” 

“ Arlette had not told me that she would 
come. She may not be able to go out.” 

“Undoubtedly she will be ])ut under lock and 
key by her jailer ! ” grumbled the captain, who 
did not always succeed in dissembling his pro- 
nounced antipathy to Madame Morgane. 

But as he was of excellent heart and feared 
that he had offended the doctor, he continued 
im media tel}" : 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


79 


“ Ah, see there, doctor, your rascally medicine 
will never, then, succeed in putting' me again on 
my feet, if it does not restore to me my fine health 
of old ? I am much put out at remaining thus 
transformed into an impotent ! ” 

“ Ah ! my friend, do not complain too much, 
you who have not charge of a soul, you who do 
not know this torture of every minute, to feel 
that, from one moment to the next, one may fail 
to beings who are absolutely in need of you.” 

These words had escaped from the doctor. He 
regretted it, feeling that Mademoiselle Malou- 
zec’s penetrating look was falling on him. But 
she did not take up his words. To Yves Mor- 
gane she was a friend of too long standing not 
to know that he pretended to bear alone the 
burdens that weighed on him. And she merely 
asked, so as to distract him from his thoughts : 

“Yves, is not Arlette’s cousin to be married 
soon — I mean Mademoiselle Chausey ? It seemed 
to me that your little daughter was to be maid 
of honor ? ” 

“ Yes, indeed, there had been question of that. 
Her aunt and her cousins were charming to her 
during their sojourn here. They have shown an 
interest in her which I have had the good nature 
to believe real. Her cousins have even written 
to her. But you know my little savage. Cor- 
respondence is not her strong point. I imagine 
that the extreme unaffectedness of ber letters 
may have somewhat discouraged her brilliant 
cousins, and now indeed six weeks have passed 
since we have heard them spoken of any more. 
What would you have ? The lucky have scarcely 


80 


LITTLE AIILETTE. 


leisure to think of the poor devils who have to 
earn their daily bread with more or less trouble. 
It is in the order of things ! ” 

“ Yves, take care lest you be unjust.” 

‘‘ I assure you, Catherine, that at this moment 
I would be delighted to have proof of my injus- 
tice, as you say. I had taken to hoping that 
perhaps my Arlette was going to come into close 
relations with her mother’s family, her only 
family, and that, in consequence, she might find 
support on that side. A veritable dream, indeed ! 
Is it possible that I, at this moment, have again 
taken to dreaming ! O God, it is nothing short 
of laughable. Acknowledge it, Catherine.” 

‘‘ Why do you want me to make a declaration 
of this sort ? Thank heaven, I am not a crea- 
ture of little faith, and I will never despair of 
anything or of anybody. Madame Chausey 
seemed to me too really good to forget Arlette.” 

“ Let us hope so,” concluded the doctor, with a 
careless smile. 

And turning around, he asked : 

“ What news this evening, Malouzec ? The 
postman has just reached you.” 

The captain took up the Quimper newspaper, 
that had been lying beside him, still enclosed in 
its mailing wrapper, and opened it carelessly. 
Suddenly his eyes, wandering over the pages, 
stopped so fixedly on one of them that Doctor 
Morgane in surprise asked : 

“ What is the matter, then ? What do you see ? ” 

‘‘ An item of news that would not astonish 
me ; but, if it is true, it would be a veritable ca- 
tastrophe for many people here.” 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


81 


‘‘ What is it ? What have you read ? ” 

“ A pispatch concerning Le Goanec’s bank.” 

“ To what effect is that dispatch ? ” 

A slight quiver agitated Y ves Morgane’s voice. 
The captain seemed to hesitate in answering : 

“ Announcing that Le Goanec had this morn- 
ing suspended payment and . . . ” 

“ And what ? ” 

“ . . . was a fugitive ! ” 

‘‘ But that is impossible ! ” remarked the doc- 
tor, erecting his tall, spare form, as if to catch the 
breath that was failing him. “ It is impossible ! 
So safe a house ! ” 

The captain threw back his head : 

“ No, not so safe ! You recall the reports that 
have been going the rounds regarding its sound- 
ness, so far back as a few months ago. We had 
talked about it together ! ” 

“ Yes, it is true, we had talked of it,” Monsieur 
Morgane repeated in a tone so strange that the 
captain, suddenly upset with anxiety, asked : 

“Morgane, did you still have money with Le 
Goanec ? ” 

“ I had all, or nearly all, that constitutes Ar- 
lette’s slender fortune, what was coming to her 
from her mother and what I had been able to 
save for her. You hear, all ! ” 

The doctor’s tone was so poignant in its bit- 
terness that Monsieur Malouzec remarked in- 
stinctively : 

“ Morgane, do not torment yourself so because 
of an item of news which, after all, may indeed 
be false, or at least very much exaggerated.” 

“ False ! Let me look at the paper.” 


82 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


He read the few lines and threw the paper 
down on the table. 

“ Why do you think I should doubt when 
these details are so precise ? Probably by this 
time a dispatch has reached my house telling me 
of the disaster. At this moment, Malouzec, my 
child is as poor as the poorest girl in Douar- 
nenez. You understand, as poor ! If I were to 
disappear to-morrow, in a little while, as I am 
threatened, she would have no other resource 
than her stepmother’s charity — And that, O 
God ! through my fault ! ” 

“ Through your fault ? ” asked Mademoiselle 
Catherine, whose face had suddenly become so 
hollowed that she looked like a very old woman. 

“ Yes, through my fault. Malouzec, I now re- 
member, had warned me of the reports that were 
going around about the Le Goanec bank. And 
I, instead of making inquiries, acting, and chang- 
ing myself if necessary into a business man, 
stupidly allowed myself to be absorbed by my 
daily occupations, I made them as numerous as 
possible, ever haunted by my eternal thought, to 
work for the future which I wanted to assure for 
Arlette, as my other children have their mother’s 
fortune. And in this way 1 succeed only in 
making her lose the little that she possessed ! 
What a fatality, then, weighs on me ! AVhat a 
malediction ! ” 

He stopped, his voice breaking down. One of 
the spasms that he knew too well was torturing 
his heart, causing acute pain in it. And a silence 
loaded with thoughts fell upon the room, in 
which the tall flames from the Are shed a joyous 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


83 


light. The captain, in consternation, was think- 
ing ; an intense emotion was agitating his devoted 
friend’s heart. 

But as for Mademoiselle Catherine, she was 
looking at the doctor in silence, ever standing, 
his countenance contracted by an expression of 
suffering that frightened her. She would have 
preferred to hear him complain, accuse himself, 
break out into bitter or violent language, than to 
see him so, not uttering a word, shutting up 
within himself the wound of this fresh blow. So 
great was the change in his features that a ques- 
tion escaped from Mademoiselle Malouzec’s lips : 

“ Yves, you are suffering ? ” 

“Yes, a little. It is nothing. I am asking 
myself whether it is better for me to set out at 
once for Quimper, so as to try to know . . . ” 

“ What ? At this hour you could find out 
nothing. From whom could you get correct in- 
formation ? Moreover, there is no train before 
this evening. Wait till to-morrow.” 

“ AYait ! To spend an evening, then a night, 
with this uncertainty in my soul ! AYill I be ever 
able to do it ? Ah ! to learn what truth there is 
in it ! I am going to telegraph to Quimper. In 
a few hours at least I shall have an answer. I 
shall know ...” 

He took up the paper again and, with fever- 
ish avidity, re-read the dispatch which pitilessly 
gave the precise details of the catastrophe, re- 
vealing it already in its entirety, giving figures 
that told clearly of its extent. What was the 
use of persisting in doubt ? The disaster was 
complete. If it had affected him only, how 


84 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


much easier it would have seemed to him to 
bear. But it was his Arlette who was stricken ; 
it was for her that the future threatened to be 
rude, as it is merciless to the poor ; it was she, the 
dear and joyous little creature, who would per- 
haps know the pinch, the misery of dependent 
conditions, the bitterness of earning one’s bread. 

Of all that the doctor had the keenest per- 
ception in a moment, and anguish was torturing 
him all over, while a supplication of despair was 
sobbing in his heart : 

“ To live, O God ! To live longer ! To live a 
long time because of her ! ” 

The captain’s voice arose, rendered hoarse by 
emotion : 

“ Morgane, my old comrade, if I can be of as- 
sistance to you in any way, you know, do 3 "ou 
not ? that I am entirely at your service, and 
that you will give me great joy, one of the 
greatest joys that I can yet experience, by mak- 
ing the most use of me you can. Catherine and 
I have always considered your Arlette as being 
somewhat our own, and we love her as if she 
were our own child ! ” 

“ I know it, my friend, and I thank you for re- 
peating it to me to-day! But at this moment 
you are as powerless as I in the presence of this 
fresh misfortune, if it is real. And I must go to 
make sure of it. This uncertainty is a torture 1 ” 

The two men drew close together in a warm 
embrace, without the captain adding a word, 
sure that Morgane and he understood each 
other, having faith in each other. 

Along with Mademoiselle Malouzec the doctor 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


85 


left the room. In the adjoining chamber he 
stopped for a minute, collecting all the force of 
liis will to overcome the double suffering, moral 
and physical, that was murdering him. With a 
spontaneous gesture the old maid extended both 
her hands to him. Their eyes met and they 
were filled with tears. 

In a hollow voice the doctor murmured : 

“Would you believe, Catherine, that I cannot 
yet imagine the disaster to be real ! It seems to 
me that I am having a bad dream, that in a little 
while I shall wake up and receive news that I 
was frightened like a child ! How weak you 
must find me ! ’’ 

“ Weak, my poor friend ! Ah ! if our wretched 
desires meant anything, how I would wish, Yves, 
to take upon myself your new trial ! ” 

“ Oh ! a terrible trial ! O God ! if I were still 
certain of having time to remedy the evil that I 
have done ! But less than any one am I sure of 
the morrow ! ” 

A contraction for a second pinched Mademoi- 
selle Malouzec’s features. 

“ Yves, why did you persist in concealing that 
you were suffering ? Why did you not have your- 
self treated ? And most seriously, as you ought ? ” 

“ I have attended to myself ; but as a physician 
I could not deceive myself. I will never get well. 
All the science in the world could do nothing for 
me. I am nothing more than a poor human 
machine used up, and my heart is affected in 
such a way that m}^ months, perhaps my days, 
are numbered.” 

He spoke with a sort of calm despair, more 


80 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


heartrending to listen to than a complaint ; and 
the inexorable conviction that was in him entered 
brutally into her also, awakening in her a bitter 
sorrow that was murdering her soul. 

“ That, Catherine, I say to you only, because 
we are very old friends and because I have abso- 
lute confidence in you. And then, there are mo- 
ments when strength at last so fails as not to be 
able to cry out its distress, even when one is sure 
to be heard. But no one at this hour ought to 
know anything of what I have acknowledged to 
you. What would be the use of everybody 
knowing that I am condemned to death? I 
have your promise, Catherine ? ” 

Gravely she said, with trembling lips : 

“ You have it, Yves. But I firmly believe that 
you are a bad judge of the condition of 3^our 
health, because your uneasiness in regard to Ar- 
lette does not leave you all your clear-sightedness. 
Whatever happens, I swear to you, as my brother 
has said, that Arlette will be our child. Rest 
assured that never will we consider her other- 
wise. May this idea, if it is possible, render 
your trouble a little less hard to bear.” 

“ Thanks ! ” he said, almost inaudibly. “ What 
a heart you have, Catherine ! ” 

“ Why ? Because I love your child who gives 
even me the illusion of having, like other women, 
a young being to love, with all the objectless ten- 
derness that my old heart contains ? Ah ! my 
friend, do not thank me for loving your Arlette ! 
She has done me more good than I will ever do 
to her ! 

She stopped abruptly, her voice choking. 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 87 

A secret flame was transforming the expres- 
sion of that tall, energetic and homely flgure. 

At that moment, perhaps, he had the intuition 
of what this woman could have been to him, if 
he had wished. Perhaps he had a confused vi- 
sion of what his devastated home would have be- 
come had Catherine Malouzec entered it of old, 
to take the place of the dead young wife. But 
he did not utter a word that would betray the 
thought that sprang up obscurely in him ; and in 
silence they separated. 

The fog had become even more intense ; and 
the few passers-by appeared as fugitive shadows 
in the thick mist. In front of the Hotel Le 
Bihan a group was standing, dimly lit up by the 
luminous globes of the main entrance, and a 
sound of voices was escaping therefrom. On ap- 
proaching, the doctor distinguished familiar 
countenances ; and on all was the same expres- 
sion of consternation. He asked, his heart beat- 
ing with heavy thumps in his breast 

“ What is the matter now ? ” 

“ Ah ! it is you, doctor ? Bad news this even- 
ing. The Le Goanec bank has suspended pay- 
ment.” 

“ Is that certain ? ” 

“Yes, indeed, unfortunately. Kergorian was 
in Quimper to-day.; und the whole town was in 
agitation. Le - Goanec is a fugitive. He left 
openly yesterday morning and has not been seen 
since. There are many victims. Le Goanec was 
a veritable hypocrite. He passed for a devout 
man if there ever was one, and he tampered as 
he pleased with his clients’ funds.” 


88 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


Yves Morgane did not listen to any more. Of 
what use was the information that one might 
give him now ? It was no longer possible for 
him to doubt. Misfortune had beaten down 
upon him, so unexpectedly that he still had the 
confused impression from it that he was moving 
in a nightmare, even when, however, certainty 
came into his mind, with pitiless clearness, that 
that ruin of Arlette was true, fearfully true ! 

In a few mechanical phrases he answered him 
who had just spoken to him, clasped at random 
the hands that were extended toward his, and 
went off through the foggy night, going straight 
ahead, his soul crushed, entertaining the cowardly 
desire of seeing an end of this evil life that had 
just conquered him once more. 

But his unconscious steps brought him back 
in front of his house. No one in that dwelling 
must know what news and what a bleeding 
wound he bore within him. The phrases of 
commonplace condolence which Madame Mor- 
gane might perhaps have thought she ought to 
address to him were odious to him in advance, 
for he knew that they would be false. Arlette’s 
ruin would inspire no real pity in her step- 
mother. 

With instinctive care he silently opened the 
door, desiring at that moment to escape even a 
fugitive meeting with her. But Arlette’s atten- 
tive ear had heard the slight noise of the door ; 
and, running into the vestibule, she hurried to- 
ward him. 

“Father, is it you, at last? How late you are 
in getting back ! I was beginning to be quite 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


89 


uneasy, and I was going to fly to the captain’s so 
as to be sure that you were there.” 

“‘To fly?’ Why, dear?” 

“You understand that if I had asked permis- 
sion, it would certainly have been refused. So 
you are not too tired, father ? ” 

“ No, mv beloved, not too much.” 

“Eeally?” 

And her eyes, in the shadow of the vestibule, 
Avere greedily interrogating the dear countenance. 

“ Really ! ” he repeated, draAving close to him, 
Avith an enveloping movement, the little creature 
Avhom he adored and for Avhom he was suffering 
so much at that moment. 

From the depths of the room in Avhich she Avas 
supervising a AvasherAvoman, Madame Morgane 
called Avith her dry voice : 

“ It is you, Y ves ? There are letters for you 
in your office. Anai'k is going to bring you a 
light.” 

“ No, not Anaik, I ! ” exclaimed Arlette, Avho 
had already taken hold of the lamp. 

“ Naturally ! you think only of losing time in 
promenades, instead of working like your sister,” 
grumbled Madame Morgane. 

With a look the doctor stopped a prompt reply 
from Arlette, that Avas already on her lips, and 
he himself, Avithout ansAvering, entered his office. 
A dim fire Avas burning there, scarcely Avarming 
the atmosphere of the large room, Avhich the lit- 
tle lamp brought in by Arlette but dimly lighted. 
He let himself fall rather than sat doAvn; and 
the child, as Avas her Avont, came and crouched at 
his feet, her head resting on his knees. With a 


90 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


caressing movement he brushed her light hair ; 
but he remained silent, exhausted by the moral 
crisis through which he had just passed, scarcely 
thinking any longer, feeling only that she, his 
daughter, was there, and that still at that mo- 
ment she was suffering in no way from the mis- 
fortune that had befallen her young life. 

But she had raised her head a little, and she 
was contemplating him, uneasy at the change in 
his pale countenance. 

“ Father, are you suffering this evening ? ” she 
asked, anxiously. 

“No, dear, I am onl}^ tired, very tired.” 

“You are only tired? You look as if you 
were sad ! Father, I am certain that you are 
sad ! Do you not wish to tell your ‘ little one ’ 
what is the matter with you ? Perhaps she could 
console you a little, she who loves you so much ! ” 

Arlette’s voice was quivering, for a fear was 
shaking her all over ; but there was such tender- 
ness in her tone, and in her eyes which she had 
fastened on him, that he felt therefrom all at 
once acute joy and sorrow. Was he then so far 
from strong that he thus betrayed himself in her 
presence ? By a supreme effort of will he said, 
striving to resume his ordinary tone : 

“ My Arlette, I have had great cares indeed 
to-day. But I will remedy them ; do not annoy 
yourself about them, dear. Leave me now, I 
have much work to do.” 

And he still found the shadow of a smile with 
which to finish : 

“You see, I have not yet even looked at my 
evening paper. W ill you place it near the lamp ? ” 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


91 


He spoke thus to get her away and to avoid 
the penetration of her animating look. She 
obeyed, and, distraughtly, with the finger, re- 
moved the letters laid on the desk. A joyful ex- 
clamation came to her : 

“ Ila ! father, a letter from Paris, from my 
Aunt Chausey ; I recognize the handwriting.” 

“ I will look at it in a moment. Go to your 
mother now.” 

“ To fold more linen ? Oh ! father. It is so 
wearisome ! And besides, what I do is never 
right ! Then I must begin all over again. That 
provokes me. And I am scolded. Father, keep 
me longer ! ” 

“ J^o, dear, it is impossible,” he remarked, in 
that tone which she never resisted. “ Be patient, 
my beloved little child. Be patient while think- 
ing that I desire it.” 

“ Yes, father.” 

And the words fell from her lips with the 
gravity of a promise, whilst she sought her kiss 
once more. 

The doctor heard her light step going away 
and being lost on the stairs. Then, with indif- 
ference, he mechanically opened with his finger 
the first letter that came to his hand, that from 
Paris, and he read : 

“ My DEAR Friend : 

“You promised to me a visit from your 
Arlette this winter, and I am coming to claim the 
child ; cost what it may, you must make us the 
sacrifice of separating from her and must give 
her to us for her cousin’s marriage, which will 


92 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


take place in about three weeks. Send us your 
treasure, my dear Yves, or bring her to us, which 
would be better still. We will take precious 
good care of her, and also as long as possible, I 
declare to you in advance, in all honesty, for we 
are all desirous, my daughters, Guy and myself, 
to make closer acquaintance of the dear little 
one. Kest quite assured, my friend, that she will 
be to me as a real daughter, all the time that you 
will do me the friendship of confiding her to me, 
and I sincerely hope that we will succeed in 
spoiling her sufficiently for her not to regret her 
Brittany too much. You will give a favorable 
answer, will you not, and quite soon ? 

“ All my compliments, I pray you, to Madame 
Morgane. My very tender kisses to Arlette, 
with my best wishes for yourself. 

“Believe me, my dear Yves, 

“ Yours very devotedly, 

“ Louise Chausey.” 


CHAPTEE YI. 


It was a matter now decided on with the doc- 
tor that Arlette should sojourn in Paris, and he 
liad just told Madame Morgane so. Indeed, 
knowing her, he had clearly foreseen that she 
would not accept with good grace the idea that 
Arlette should enjoy a pleasure from which 
neither she nor her daughter would derive any 
advantage ; but he did not think, on communi- 
cating this plan of travel to her, that he would 
provoke a scene like that which had just taken 
place, and from which he emerged broken, so 
much had he suffered from running counter to 
Madame Morgane’s cold and pitiless animosity 
toward Arlette. 

How much had she also striven to wound him, 
and in every way, not even fearing, triumphant 
in the full possession of her own fortune guarded 
carefully, to reproach him with the financial dis- 
aster of which he was a victim, and which she 
partly guessed at despite his reticence ! 

And it was at the mercy of that envious and 
bad woman that Arlette would find herself were 
he to disappear — ere long, perhaps, considering 
how he was threatened. Had he hesitated on the 
reply to be made to Madame Chausey, his deci- 
sion would have been dictated to him as irrevoca- 
ble by this conversation. To him, indeed, it was 
an inimense sacrifice to separate himself from his 
93 


94 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


child, at a time when the days of his existence 
were numbered — he was terribly convinced of it. 
But there was question of Arlette’s happiness, of 
her future, and, in the presence of that reason so 
grave, all objections were wiped out. No, he 
must not lose the chance of a coming together 
which, in its sequel, might have a great influence 
on the little girl's fate. 

This opinion was also that of Mademoiselle 
Catherine, for the doctor, fearing lest he would 
weaken when confronted by his ardent desire not 
to part with Arlette, had come to take counsel 
of his old friend ; and, like him, she had deemed 
that sojourn at Paris useful to Arlette, offering 
herself even, with the decision and readiness that 
were peculiar to her, to escort the child to her 
aunt, since Monsieur Morgane could not abandon 
his patients. This, at least, was the reason which 
he had alleged to Mademoiselle Malouzec; the 
truth was, he knew he was too exhausted to bear 
the fatigue of two long hurried journeys; and 
now that Arlette had more need than ever of 
him, he became in regard to his own health ex- 
ceedingly and unwontedly cautious, struggling 
with all his knowledge against his disease. 

She was about to leave, then, and to leave 
soon, to return she knew not when. Circum- 
stances would decide that. Did not Madame 
Chausey ask her for the whole winter ? Ah ! how 
long those weeks would be when he would have 
to live isolated in that house, a veritable stranger 
dwelling to him when she was absent from it. 
O God ! how, after having heard so many cruel 
words, he needed to hear her fresh voice, her 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


95 


happy little girl’s hearty laughter, to feel the 
caress of her warm kisses ! Where was she ? 

Hearifig Blanche pass by his office door, he 
called and asked : 

“ Where is your sister ? ” 

She stopped on the threshold, with sullen ex- 
pression : 

“ I do not know. She is always out. After 
all, I think she is at Mademoiselle Malouzec’s.” 

The doctor did not answer all at once. He 
was thinking, taking in at a glance that young 
girl of fifteen, who had already the stature of a 
woman and bore herself, in his presence, stiff and 
formal, almost morose, without a spark in her 
spiritless grey eyes. Was it his fault, then, if she 
showed herself thus to him, without freedom or 
tenderness ? Nevertheless, he had been a good 
father to her. Even when she was quite small, 
he had sought to penetrate into that sealed soul, 
to open that rather slow intellect, without aims 
or aspirations ; he had striven to bring the two 
sisters close to each other, different as were their 
natures. It was trouble in vain. Blanche had 
remained the same, revealing herself gradually 
quite like her mother. Thoughtfully he again 
asked : 

“ Why do you never go to Mademoiselle Mal- 
ouzec’s with your sister ? ” 

Squarely she replied in her clear voice : 

“ Because I get weary there. She and Arlette 
are ever chatting together about things that do 
not interest me, flowers, books, the poor. Do 
I know ? I prefer to remain working with 
mamma.” 


96 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


Ever standing in the open doorway, she seemed 
as if waiting to be let go. He guessed at her 
secret desire. 

‘‘I will not keep you, my child. You can go 
to work.” 

“Hot now; mamma is waiting for me in the 
parlor to see the rector.” 

She closed the door with a formal movement. 
And, once he no longer heard the noise of her 
heavy footfall in the vestibule, he went out with 
a sort of haste, as if it had been the atmosphere 
of that large dull house that was weighing on 
him, to such a degree as to make each beat of his 
heart painful. At Mademoiselle Catherine’s he 
did not remain, so eager was he to be alone with 
Arlette. But when they were outside, he asked 
her with tender solicitude : 

“ You are well covered ? Sufficiently so not to 
catch cold while going with me as far as Plou- 
mar’ch, where I am going to see little Kerdec, 
who sprained himself yesterday.” 

“ Surely not, I will not feel cold ! Oh ! father, 
how good you are to have come in search of 
me ! It is well, quite well ! ” 

Truly she was looking at him with such a 
radiance of pleasure in her eyes that he felt the 
burden of life less overwhelming on his shoulders. 
They entered upon the road that overlooked the 
sea ; she was walking by his side with her brisk 
step, her lips open the better to breathe the strong 
breeze from the deep that was passing over her 
like a great enveloping caress, bringing a deeper 
rose-tint to her cheeks, intensifying the purple 
splendor of her lips, raising around her forehead 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


97 


her light hair with brownish gold reflexes. They 
were proceeding, she chatting and joyous, he ap- 
peased by the irresistible charm of that youth in 
bloom and yet seized again gradually by the 
thought that he must make known to her Ma- 
dame Chausey’s demand. 

The odd impression held him back that, when 
he would have spoken, the child would no longer 
be all to him, as she was at that moment. That 
unknown man whom he was going to call into 
the presence of that young thought would im- 
mediately attract to himself something of her. 
It was fatal. What was the use of cowardly re- 
coiling ? And he asked : 

‘‘ Arlette, would you be satisfied to go to Paris ? ” 

“ To go to Paris, I ? ” 

“Yes, you. Would that give you pleasure?” 

“ To go there with you ? Oh ! father, it would 
be delightful ! But why is that to be ? Tell me, 
papa ! Oh ! tell me quickly ? Does my aunt, 
then, ask . . 

She dared not finish. 

“ Yes, I have received a letter from Madame 
Chausey claiming your presence at the marriage 
of your Cousin Charlotte.” 

“ True ? My aunt has written that to you ? 
And she asks me for sure ? Seriously ? ” 

The shadow of a smile passed over the doctor’s 
lips, so beneficent was it to see that unalfected 
joy on the part of Arlette — like to the clear blaze 
of the fire warming a poor frozen being. 

“ She invites you for good and all, and witli 
such amiability that I am quite ready to confide 
you to her, if you so wish ! ” 


98 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


“ Oh ! if I SO wish ! ” 

She stopped short, anxious, in the presence of 
a sudden fear. 

“ Papa, why do you say ‘ to confide me ’ ? Are 
you not coming with me ? ” 

“ It would not be possible, my dear child. I 
cannot leave Douarnenez ; you know that 
well.” 

“ And you will send me to live down there in 
Paris, all alone ! Oh ! father, it is impossible ! 
I do not want to leave you, never, never ! I do 
not wish to do so, and I cannot ! What would 
we do without each other, we who have never 
been separated ? ” 

AVith a sudden jump she had bounded toward 
her father, pressing herself against him in that 
childish attitude that was familiar to him. And, 
for a second, they both remained silent, equally 
dear as they were to each other, closely united 
in that solitude already bemisted by the approach 
of winter twilight. The doctor laid his hand on 
the young head leaning on his heart, palpitating 
with tenderness, and said, with an effort to put a 
little pleasantness into his tone : 

“ AVe would not leave each other for very long, 
my beloved. We would write to each other a 
great deal, such long letters that it would be al- 
most as if we were chatting together ! ” 

“ AVould that suffice for you, father ? It would 
cause you no anxiety to know that I was far 
from you ?” 

“I would be happy above all, my dear, to 
know that you were in a family fully disposed 
to show much affection for you. Eecall how 


littlp: aklette. 


99 


charming to you your aunt showed herself all at 
once.” 

“ Yes, that is true.” 

She murmured these words in a dreamy voice. 
Her hand ever glided under her father’s arm, she 
pressed close to him, who had resumed his walk 
toward the low cottage in Ploumar’ch whither 
he was going, now quite near. 

“Yes, they were good, very good, my aunt, 
my cousins, and he also . . . Guy ! ” 

“And they would be so again. They would 
show my Arlette a corner of that world which 
she is so desirous of knowing! They would 
transform my little savage into a real young lady.” 

“ Oh I father, it would not be possible. Never 
would I succeed in resembling Charlotte and 
Madeleine ; they are too refined for that ! ” 

The doctor gave a faint smile in answer to this 
humble avowal, guessing at the mysterious work 
that was being done in that juvenile soul, trou- 
bled by the sudden prospects raised up before it. 
Pensively she asked : 

“ Father, if your ‘ little one ’ was going with- 
out you to Paris, you would not become weary 
of her, really ? ” 

“ I would think that my ‘ little one ’ is in good 
surroundings, well loved, and I would patiently 
await the moment when she would write to me to 
come and take her away.” 

“ You would come as soon as I called you ? ” 

“ Immediately, as soon as you would give a 
sign. And, who knows ? perhaps once in Paris 
it would take you a long time to get the desire 
to make me a sign ! ” 


100 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


“ Oh ! that is impossible, since I would not be 
near you ! ” 

She had said these words in such a tone spring- 
ing from her heart that JVlonsieur Morgane 
jumped, and a penetrating sweetness passed 
through his soul. They had arrived in front of 
the cottage where the doctor was expected. He 
detached Arlette’s arm, ever clasped against his, 
and in the tone that he ever had for her alone, 
he said : 

“While I am going to see my patient, think, 
dear, of all that we have just been talking about ; 
and you will decide yourself of the final answer 
that I am to send to your aunt.” 

She inclined her head, and, dreamily, sat down 
on the only bench in the little garden, from which 
the view stretched out very far over the dark- 
ened horizon of the sea. A deep silence was all 
around her, animated only by the plaintive song 
of the waves. But did she hear them that day ? 
Her face resting on both her hands crossed on 
each other, she was thinking, troubled by her 
father’s words. 

Indeed she had kept unforgotten the memory 
of the invitation addressed to her by Madame 
Chausey, on their return from the Kergoat Pil- 
grimage ; but never had she fully believed that she 
could comply with it. And yet, here was the dream 
within reach of being realized, made realizable in 
fact. She, so curious of novelty, so greedy of 
action, so lively of imagination, had all of a sud- 
den the possibility of casting a glance at that 
world to which Douarnenez seemed to her the 
small, very small entrance. And this idea alone 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


101 


had to her a magic and attractive charm that the 
single idea of leaving her father could weaken. 
But did not the doctor assure her that the time 
of separation would quickly pass ? She had ab- 
solute and unaffected faith in his word ; no mat- 
ter what he might have said to her, she would 
have believed it, as one believes those whom one 
loves above all. 

To go to Paris ! To see again her charming 
lady cousins ! To see again also her Cousin Guy ! 
If Arlette had been capable of unraveling what 
was passing in her mind, she would have per- 
ceived that now the heroes of her readings, 
whether they were valiant knights or simple 
gentlemen belonging to the society of to-day, in- 
variably took on the appearance of a man of tall 
stature, at the same time spare and robust, their 
hair cut brush-like over their broad forehead, their 
eyes very bright and somewhat mocking, their 
smile pleasant, lit up by beautiful teeth under a 
tawny blond mustache. Now, that man very 
closely resembled that Guy de Pazanne whom 
chance had formerly thrown all of a sudden in 
her way. By merely turning her head a little 
she could see that spot on the road where, for 
the first time, she had noticed him in the traits 
of a stranger who was contemplating her with 
curiosity ; where for the first time he had spoken 
to her. 

Then, how they had chatted together ! for, in a 
very short time, he had inspired her with a 
strange confidence, attracting her at the same 
time that he repelled her somewhat. And now, 
she had but a word to say, and she would see 


102 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


him again. She would go to live where he 
lived; she would know what he knew; she 
would love what he loved, perhaps. 

To go to Paris ! These four words were bud- 
ding in her young brain, and they there awak- 
ened all sorts of uncertain and confused images, 
while she remained with her eyes lost towaixl 
the grey horizon. It was as if, all of a sudden, a 
fold of the impenetrable screen that shut out the 
world from her had suddenly been removed, let- 
ting a ray of unknown light be filtered to her. 
Behind that screen, what was there ? 

A voice near her startled her. It was that 
of her father, who came out of the cottage and 
gently asked : 

“ What is my Arlette thinking of, with an air 
so grave ? ” 

A deep blush ran over the child’s cheeks, as 
she was suddenly snatched from her vague 
dreaming. 

I am thinking of the journey of which you 
have spoken to me.” 

“ Does it frighten you, then ? Would you pre- 
fer to give it up ? ” 

“ Oh ! no,” she remarked, somewhat hastil}^ 

At that moment it would have caused her ex- 
treme regret to see the mysterious screen her- 
metically closed. 

“No. Father, do \"ou desire that I go to 
Paris?” 

He hesitated for a second, collecting all his 
will so that his voice should not tremble. 

“ I desire it very much, my child.” 

She murmured, almost frightened at his reply : 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


103 


“ Then I will go, and I will try not to be too 
unhappy on finding myself far from you.” 

Without a word, he leaned down and kissed 
the little face raised toward his own, on which 
shone candid eyes — a child’s eyes, Guy de Fa- 
zanne had found, and he was accustomed to see 
woman’s eyes in those of the young girls whom 
he ordinarily met. 

And in silence, their minds full of thoughts, 
they returned toward the country, which the 
evening mist was enveloping. In the distance, 
lights were illumining the window panes, fur- 
rowing the night with their trembling flame, and 
under the darkened sky was ])rQfiled in black the 
lengthened shadow of a bell tower. 

Arlette asked : 

“ Father, come with me into the church. Do 
you wish to ? I need to say a prayer for you ! ” 

“Yes, my beloved, let us go in! ” 

The church was quite dark. Alone, at some 
distance from one another, candles bestarred the 
darkness, and their sparkling light fell on the 
white bonnets of some women kneeling on the 
stone floor, telling their beads. 

Arlette knelt like them, like a true Breton girl, 
murmuring with all the ardor of her believing 
soul the words of prayer that came bounding 
from her heart. And her father, whom cruel life 
had made skeptical, yet poured forth a supreme 
appeal toward the mysterious Being whom his 
daughter was invoking with so much faith to the 
effect that the future might be indulgent to the 
little creature who was so passionately dear to 
him. 


CHAPTER YII. 


The train was ever rolling on with its giddy 
express rapidity. Mademoiselle Malouzec was 
asleep, her head leaning a little forward on the 
rather straight bust, whose rigidity even the fa- 
tigue of the long journey did not succeed in 
breaking, and the coach lamp was casting on her 
face reddish reflections that brought out its 
wrinkles, hardening her ordinarily lively and 
smiling expression. Arlette keenly noticed this, 
as she perchance turned her head toward her. It 
seemed to her that all of a sudden she found her- 
self with a strange woman, a Mademoiselle Cath- 
erine no longer bearing any resemblance what- 
ever to her whom she had known until then. 
And an odd sensation of solitude passed through 
her impressionable soul. Nothing, moreover, any 
longer distracted her. Outside, the night, a star- 
less night, reigned fully impregnated with a cold 
that was gradually invading the coach ; and one 
would have said that the train was running be- 
tween two walls of impenetrable darkness, be- 
yond which extended that world that so strongly 
aroused Arlette’s curiosity. But suddenly that 
world almost frightened her. 

In the silence of that coach of dull aspect, 
where were heard only the incessant noise of the 
wheels on the rails and the shrill sound of the 
whistle, a sudden fear was awakened in her at 
104 


LITTLE AllLETTE. 


105 


the idea that she was going to find herself all 
alone in the bosom of a family whom in reality 
she scarcely knew. Anxiously did she seek to 
see them again one by one, those relatives, almost 
strangers to her, to see them again such as their 
image had been engraven on her memory : Ma- 
dame Chausey, with her kindly smile ; Charlotte, 
laughing and amiable as Madeleine ; Guy, a tall, 
handsome young man, who gave her somewhat 
the impression of considering her as a living doll, 
amusing to hear chatting, to see coming and go- 
ing, but who, at the same time, showed himself 
cordially attentive to her and looked at her oc- 
casionally with eyes from which raillery was in- 
deed absent. 

At that moment, in truth, it was necessary for 
her thus to recall them all, for, like the buzzing 
of an importunate fly, there came back to her 
the perfidious and malevolent insinuations of 
her sister Blanche in regard to her sojourn in 
Paris ; Madame Morgane’s no less discouraging 
reflections on the far from flattering impression 
that would be produced, in very elegant society, 
by the arrival of a little Breton girl without any 
knowledge of the wa3^s of the world. Against 
all that Arlette had taken no precaution, so 
much was she cheered up by the confidence 
placed by her father in the reception she would 
meet with from Madame Chausey. But now her 
father was afar off, ah ! very far from her. And 
at thought of this her heart swelled with keen 
regrets reawakening all the sorrow experienced 
at the moment of taking her last farewell, inun- 
dating her cheeks with scalding tears. Oh ! why 


106 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


had she set out ? Why had he tried so much to 
get her to go away ? 

How near Paris was already ! There was 
Mademoiselle Catherine awake, getting up and 
collecting her small packages. Arlette passed 
her handkerchief over her eyes and, her brow 
leaning against the window, watched the steady 
appearance of the thousands of lights that an- 
nounced the great city. From moment to mo- 
ment they became more brilliant, more numer- 
ous ; and dark shadows of houses were vaguely 
outlined. On the widened road on which the 
train ran there were long lines of coaches stand- 
ing still, and there in its turn the mass of the sta- 
tion was outlined under the blinding brilliance 
of the electric lights. A iew minutes more, then 
a few seconds, and, noisily, the convoy will be 
engulfed under the glass roof. 

‘‘ Paris ! all out ! ” exclaimed an invisible em- 
ployee who was running alongside the train. 

Arlette stood up, not really knowing at that 
moment whether or not she was satisfied to ar- 
rive at the end of her journey. A harsh light 
was falling from the milk-white globes, inundat- 
ing the station, lighting up the multitude of 
human creatures who were moving agitatedly 
in all directions, were calling, were answering, 
were filling with a dull murmur that great hall 
in which the engine of the train halted with a 
plume of vapor and a strident, whistling noise. 

“ Come, quick, my little one, let us get down,” 
remarked Mademoiselle Malouzec, picking up her 
packages ; “ otherwise your aunt will believe 
that we missed the train, and she Avill go away.” 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


107 


“ And will leave us ? Oh ! miss, let us hurry ! ” 

She jumped out of the coach, followed by 
Mademoiselle Catherine ; and both, carried along 
by the wave of travelers, directed their steps to- 
ward the gate surmounted by the word “ Sortie ” * 
(exit). 

‘‘ I am sure that there she is ! I recognize her 
small figure ! ” suddenly remarked a clear, ring- 
ing male voice. 

On raising her head, Arlette perceived the 
countenance of a man whom she had not forgot- 
ten and who was smiling on her, emerging from 
a deep fur collar. 

“ My Cousin Guy ! Yes, it is I indeed ! Help 
us to get out of this crowd ! I am going to get 
lost ! ” 

“ Hot at all ! ” he said, pleasantly, “ since we 
are here now to guard you. Louise, this way ; 
here is our little traveler with Mademoiselle Mal- 
ouzec.” 

Making an opening in the crowd, he dragged 
behind him Arlette, who was stunned by so 
much life, and the child, without knowing how 
the thing happened, found herself surrounded, 
caressed, embraced by three women, equally ele- 
gant and pretty, who spoke to her all sorts of 
affectionate words of welcome. She let herself 
be so treated, answering somewhat at random, in 
the confusion of that first meeting, hearing Mad- 
emoiselle Malouzec also talking, and scarcely un- 
derstanding her words. 

When she resumed a little self-control, she no- 
ticed in front of her her two lady cousins, as at- 
tractive as at Douarnenez, now in their winter 


108 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


costume, then her aunt, whose lips opened on 
beautiful teeth, just like Guy’s, which shone 
most evenly under his mustache, whilst he 
looked at her with that amused eye which she 
had already noticed in him in Brittany. 

“ Little Arlette, what ails you ? ” he asked at 
the same time. “ How you are looking at us ! 
Do you not recognize us ? As for me, 1 clearl}^ 
recognize your eyes, though they no longer have 
exactly their same expression. For the moment 
they are the eyes of a little frightened gazelle.” 

“ All this crowd of people is frightening, and 
so is this noise ! ” she said, in an undertone. 

She had the impression that she was living in 
a dream, in a very fatiguing dream. 

“ She can stand no more of it, the poor dear,” 
interrupted Madame Chausey. “ And then, she 
must be frozen after such a journey ! Let us re- 
turn quickly, so as to get her warm and to give 
her some dinner. Guy, see, then, that some one 
is attending to their baggage. You will have it 
sent. We are all going to leave.” 

And, turning toward Mademoiselle Malouzec, 
she concluded graciously : 

“You will come with us, miss. We are 
carrying you off also.” 

“ Madam, you are very kind, and I thank you 
very much. But I am expected . . . ” 

“ Expected ? Oh ! Mademoiselle Catherine, let 
me tell you that you have all the appearance of 
giving me a lame excuse ! ” 

“ And yet, madam, I am telling you the naked 
truth. I am acquainted here with a woman from 
Douarnenez who keeps a small hotel ; and I have 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


109 


written to her. She has reserved a room for me 
for this evening. Excuse me if I do not accom- 
]mny you, as you have been so amiable as to in- 
vite me ; but old plants, in order to grow well, 
must not be transplanted to a different kind of 
soil ! It is so far a great deal, for an old Breton 
woman of my class, to find herself so far from 
Brittany.’’ 

She was laughing heartily, and she was even ^ 
much more sincere than Madame Chausey might ' 
have supposed. The truth was that she did not 
feel herself at all at ease, carried away as she 
was in the Parisian atmosphere which was that 
of Madame Chausey and of her daughters. She 
concluded : 

“ Again I say very many thanks, madam, for 
your invitation. If I do not disturb your ar- 
rangements, I will go to-morrow to see the little 
girl, who is indeed in a sense my child, as I have 
seen her as a doll baby ! ” 

On both cheeks she warmly embraced Arlette, 
who threw herself around her neck, and then 
clasped the hands of the two young ladies and of 
their mother. The latter, ever attentive, said at 
once to her brother : 

“ Guy, you will accompany the lady to her 
carriage. We are going to look up ours. You 
will come to it to say adieu to us.” 

Courteously he escorted Mademoiselle Malou- 
zec, who protested against him doing so, trying 
to keep her vast traveling bag in her hand. But 
Guy insisted with such good grace that he gained 
possession of it, and she had to capitulate and do 
whatever was desired by that young man who, 


110 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


she thought, had the bearing of a prince in his 
furred cloak. For the first time in her life she 
allowed herself to be treated as a lady, and for- 
got for a moment her prejudices against “the 
gentlemen of Paris.” 

“Then this evening, Guy, is it not?” asked 
Madame Chausey. “You will come for a little 
while before going to the Fran^ais ? ” 

“Yes, assuredly.” 

“ Cousin, are you not coming in with us ? ” re- 
marked Arlette from the inside of the carriage. 

And there was an almost imperceptible disap- 
pointment in her tone. 

“ Alas ! my cousin, I do not dine at home, but 
I will not fail to go and pay you my visit of wel- 
come this evening, to know whether you are not 
too much displeased with Paris. So long, Arlette.” 

“ So long, Guy,” she answered, amused at so 
familiarly pronouncing her handsome cousin’s 
name. 

He bowed while shutting the door and saluted 
for the last time as the carriage rolled off. 

If, a few hours later, any one had asked Ar- 
lette what she had been doing since leaving the 
railway station, she would have had great diffi- 
culty in telling it clearly, for it seemed to her, 
beginning with that very moment, that she had 
been more that ever carried off into real dream- 
land. In her memory she kept at first the con- 
fused vision of many streets traversed by the 
carriage, set off with the tall dark houses ; then 
very many shops also ; with a swarm of carriages 
and fugitive black forms that she was told were 
passers-by. Then the coupe stopped. She had 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


Ill 


ascended a broad stairway, the steps of Avhich 
disappeared under a carpet that yielded to the 
feet. She had seen open before her a succession 
of rooms that appeared to her worthy of figuring 
in a palace, until the moment when her aunt’s 
affectionate voice had said to her : 

“ Here, darling, you are at home ! ” 

Her “ at home ” was a smiling room, hung with 
Japanese stuff of odd designs on a brown back- 
ground ; a lamp overhung with a clear shade was 
burning there, and violets in full bloom in a 
crystal vase impregnated it with a very sweet 
odor. She had a vague recollection of having 
shown her extreme delight with a room just as 
pretty, in words that won for her kisses mingled 
with laughter, on the part of her aunt and Char- 
lotte ; moreover, she was speaking at random, in 
accordance with her successive impressions. 
Then Charlotte had escorted her to dinner, and 
more than ever, in that dining-room so different 
from that at Douarnenez, she had an even more 
intense sensation of living in a dream, this time 
a bright dream, like to a fairy tale. Was she 
not really little Cinderella carried off to her god- 
mother’s ? 

Did she in reality thus see around her those 
new faces that were smiling on her ? Had she 
thus before her eyes a table blooming with red 
cyclamens, bearing crystals that were iridescent 
in the lamplight, silver dishes marked with a 
large figure presented to her by a servant bear- 
ing the solemn mien of an office holder in the 
performance of ministerial duty. 

When she wanted to collect a little of her 


112 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


wandering and capricious ideas, as if they were 
wild butterflies, those ideas of hers escaped as if 
they could not be collected. She did not succeed 
in resurrecting in her confused thoughts the 
memories of the day preceding, in seeing again 
the cold house in Douarnenez and its smiling 
garden. Mademoiselle Catherine’s low shop, in 
finding again even the faintest image that she 
had had of her father in the Breton station. 
Even the lineaments of that beloved countenance 
became vague, indistinct, mixed. And, weary of 
this useless and enervating search, she at last 
suddenly dreamed : 

“ I will see Kim this evening when I shall be 
all alone ! How happy it would be for me to 
know how good to me all are ! ” 

And then dinner was over ; and now Arlette 
had just returned to the parlor which had wrung 
from her her first exclamation of admiration on 
her arrival at her aunt’s, for she had never no- 
ticed in any Breton house such furniture, with 
pure silk, nor such palms with sjdendidly devel- 
oped leaves, nor so man}^ flowers distributed pro- 
fusely in baskets and vases, on tables, mantel- 
piece and grand piano. 

“Well, little fay, of what are you thinking, 
with such serious mien ? ” Charlotte asked, caress- 
ing Arlette’s hair, who had made a complete con- 
quest of her. 

“ I am not thinking, I cannot ! My ideas no 
longer obey me. They are in a whirlwind. 
They are frolicking from right to left. They 
are taken up just as much as my eyes. It is even 
rather fatiguing ! ” 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


113 


“ Especially when one has been traveling for 
eighteen or nineteen hours. To-morrow, if you 
keep cool, you will see without fatigue, and we 
will do our best that you do not get tired of 


Charlotte stopped for a second ; then, mischiev- 
ously, she concluded : 

. . . of Madame Morgane.” 

“ Of Madame Morgane ? Oh ! if you knew 
how delightful it is to be far from her and no 
longer to hear oneself getting scolded ! ” 

She had spoken with such conviction that 
Charlotte burst into laughter. All at once her 
cheeks became so deeply purple that her cousin 
had pity on her. 

“ I am teasing you, dear. And, to escape me, 
you would like very much, I am sure, to take 
refuge at the piano, which seems to tempt you ? 
Will you not give us a little music ? It would 
be quite gracious on your part ! ” 

“ Oh ! no, not this evening. I could not sing 
this evening, as I ordinarily did when near papa. 
I could not. But it would give me so much 
pleasure to hear you, yes, you ! ” 

“ I, child ! I have not touched my piano for 
so many days that I do not remember. When 
one is engaged to be married, as you will know 
later on, Arlette, one no longer does anything 
but shopping ! That is positive,” she jocosely in- 
sisted, while Arlette was examining her without 
being able to say a word, asking herself whether 
she was joking or not. “But Madeleine will 
play for you all you wish ! ” 


114 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


Oh ! not at all ; on the contrary ! she is fanat- 
ically fond of music, judging from the hours of 
study that she gives to it every day.’’ 

“ And I can go and listen to her in the con- 
servatory ? I like so much to hear music with- 
out seeing whence it comes ! ” 

‘‘What? Are people so Wagnerian at Dou- 
arnenez ? Come, little girl, do as seems agree- 
able to you.” 

“ Whither are you sending her, Charlotte ? ” 
Madame Chausey asked from a distance. “To 
her bed ? That is what would be best for her. 
It must be that she can hold out no longer, the 
poor little girl.” 

“ Oh, no ! I am no longer fatigued at all,” Ar- 
lette protested, animatedly. “Do not send me 
away to my room yet, I entreat you ! ” 

It was true that she no longer felt any fatigue. 
But even had it been otherwise, assuredly she 
would not have wished to retire to rest at that 
time. Had not Guy said that he would come ? 
And for her. . . . What would he think 

when he discovered that she had already gone 
to sleep like a baby that is sent to bed imme- 
diately after dinner ? 

Madeleine had obligingly sat down at the 
piano. Arlette slipped into a corner of the con- 
servatory from which the piano was invisible, 
and she was listening. From her retreat she 
saw, at the other end of the parlor, Charlotte 
and her betrothed in deep conversation, and 
Madame Chausey approaching them. All three 
took to considering papers that the young man 
drew from his portfolio. Then from the piano a 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


115 


harmony arose, and Arlette shut her eyes the 
better to collect her impressions. 

Madeleine’s playing was, like herself, correct 
and refined, the playing of a very well-bred 
young lady, who betrays but little of herself and 
is revealed only as the pupil of a talented pro- 
fessor. But on the being, passionately fond of 
music that Arlette was, the slightest harmony 
had incomparable influence. What was there, 
then, in the page by Chopin, which Madeleine 
was playing with such real expression that should 
make Arlette thrill all over while listening to it ? 
The broad sonorous waves bounding from the 
ivory seemed to envelope her. And, in propor- 
tion as they rose — strange as it may seem — they 
took to reawakening in her heart the vision so 
much desired of the quiet house in Douarnenez 
where her father was. Her eyes ever closed, be- 
ing no longer distracted by the outside world, 
she found herself again in the office in which she 
spent so many delightful moments with him. At 
that time he must be there ! What was he do- 
ing? Was he not suffering from knowing that 
she was so far, far away, so far from him ? For 
hours and hours must have passed since she 
reached Paris. Perhaps at that moment he was 
thinking of her. He was regretting having let 
her go. In her also was reawakened the bitter 
sorrow of the separation, the anguish of which 
she had already felt for the first time in the 
darkened coach; and, gradually, silent tears 
were gliding down her cheeks without her be- 
ing even conscious of them. A need for tender- 
ness, a burning thirst for being no. longer alone, 


116 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


for hearing a loved word, for revealing to some 
one or to something her moral distress, was grad- 
ually penetrating her irresistibly. 

And yet she dared not go away down there, 
to the other end of the parlor, to ask for aid 
against her isolation from Madame Chausey and 
the engaged couple, ever absorbed in their con- 
versation ; Madeleine was now playing a scherzo 
with a quickness that one would not have ex- 
pected of her who was so calm ! Under her fin- 
gers the notes rolled, pressed on one another as, 
on the shore of the Eis there pressed on one an- 
other the thousands of drops that made the beau- 
tiful, nimble waves so loved by Arlette. Ah ! 
how many hours were going to elapse before she 
would see them again, before she would revisit 
that spot of Breton land where her heart was ! 

Suddenly she sprang up. Through the sonor- 
ous notes emerging from the piano there came to 
her ears Guy’s gladsome voice calling her : 

“Arlette, little Arlette, where are you con- 
cealed ! Ah ! I have found you ! It is" impossi- 
ble for you to dissemble any longer. I see the 
toe of your shoe, a veritable Cinderella shoe.” 

Guy advanced toward her. He seemed as if 
shocked on meeting the moist look of those eyes 
with the joyous brilliance of which he was es- 
pecially acquainted. 

“ Arlette, what ails you ? ” 

“ISTothing ails me. I am listening to the 
music ! ” 

“ It is the music that is making you weep ? 
Why are you weeping ? ” 

“ Because I am very silly,” she remarked, as 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


117 


she hastily plugged her handkerchief against her 
moist eyes. 

He smiled, in spite of himself, a smile that 
was almost immediately lost under his blond 
mustache. 

“ That is not a reason. You do not wish to 
tell me what ails you ? Has any one of us caused 
you pain? If so, it was quite involuntarily. We 
were all so anxious to make you love your so- 
journ among us ! ” 

The somewhat teasing flame in Guy’s look 
was extinguished in an expression of affectionate 
solicitude, and the tone of his voice had become 
very gentle. She really guessed that he was un- 
easy about her tears. Then her heart distended 
a little, and a faint smile glided over her yet 
trembling lips : 

“Do not be disturbed on my account! I as- 
sure you that it is stupid on my part to weep ! 
I am by no means unhappy among you. Only 
. . . while Madeleine was playing, I all at 

once took to thinking of . . . home, of my 

father ! I felt myself so far away that . . .” 

“ That you regretted very much having allowed 
yourself to be attracted away from your home. 
Poor Arlette ! Poor little bird away from its 
nest ! ” 

She seemed to him so young in the simplicity 
of her grief that the desire instinctively came to 
him to draw her on as one draws on sorrowing 
children in order to console them with appeasing 
kisses. But he merely said in the same affection- 
ate voice : 

“ Arlette, do not weep, I entreat you. Do you 


118 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


not know that you would fill me with remorse ? 
How badly we must be practising hospitality 
toward you, when you feel so much like an exile 
among us ! ” 

“ Oh ! no, do not think me too much like an 
exile ! It is the first moment ! I am not yet ac- 
customed to having no one to whom to say all 
that I have in my mind, to whom to speak of 
home ! And then, also, I am afraid lest I tire 
you all ! I find myself so insignificant and im- 
perfectly reared in comparison with my cousins ! ” 

She spoke in a tone of distress so sincere that 
Guy was not so cruel as to smile in the presence 
of that avowal ; but he asked in an encouraging 
tone : 

“Are you fishing for compliments from me 
when you say such things ? ” 

“ Oh, no ! it is because I think them ! When 
my stepmother so repeated to me on all possible 
occasions, I did not believe her. But now, I am 
no longer any good at all ! I am sure that I am 
going to do many stupid things, and so much the 
more as I cannot ask any one to aid me in shun- 
ning them ! ” 

“ And as for me, I am quite certain, on the 
contrary, that you will not commit any of them. 
Moreover, if you have the least need in the world 
of assistance, have you not my sister and your 
cousins ? ” 

“ Oh ! never would I dare to have recourse to 
them ! ’’ 

“ And why not ? ’’ 

Arlette lowered her voice a little : 

“ They intimidate me too much ! And then, 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


119 


if they knew me as I am, they would have noth- 
ing to do but not love me any more at all ! I 
would perhaps make the same impression on them 
as I have made on Madame Morgane ! Madeleine 
especially intimidates me. She is so reasonable, 
so serious, so gentle. Quite the opposite of me 
indeed ! When I shall have lived some time with 
her, I am afraid she will find me a real monster ! ” 

Guy this time took to laughing heartily : 

“ I think you are running no risk of this sort. 
But, tell me, do I intimidate you also ? ” 

Her limpid eyes plunged into those of the 
young man, which luid lost their bantering ex- 
pression, and in all sincerity she answered : 

“ Ho, you do not intimidate me, especially at 
this moment when you show no sign of making 
fun of me. Men, moreover, frighten me much 
less than women. I have never seen them but 
good, whilst women . . 

‘‘Well, then, do you know what little Arlette 
must do ? When the need arises, you must use un- 
scrupulously whatever of worldly experience I 
have to offer you, have recourse to it as soon as 
you are embarrassed, as soon as I can be of use 
to you in any way.” 

She listened to him convinced, delighted, not 
daring to believe in the words which she heard. 

“ And I will be able to tell you all that I wish, 
to ask you all that I wish, to speak to you of 
whatever interests me, as I did to the captain ? ” 

“ Most certainly ! ” Guy replied, amused at 
hearing himself put on the same level as the cap- 
tain. 

“ And that will not weary you ? ” 


120 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


On the contrary, I will be extremely proud 
if you really wish to do me the honor of consid- 
ering me as a great friend to whom you will be 
able to speak as much as you wish of your home, 
of what you are holding in your heart, of what 
is either pleasure or pain to you.” 

“ Oh ! thanks ! thanks ! ” she said, with an out- 
burst of gratitude, “ Guy, you are delightful ! ” 

But at that very moment a wicked devil was 
whispering in her ear the so oft repeated words 
of Mademoiselle Malouzec on the little confidence 
that one must have in men’s discourse. 

And, disturbed in her joy, she anxiously asked : 

“ Do you really think, Guy, all that you are 
saying ? ” 

“ What, do I think so ? ” 

“Yes. It is not merely amiable phrases in- 
tended to give me pleasure, to console me ? ” 

“ What skepticism, Arlette ? Whither are you 
going in search of those mean suppositions ? ” 

“ Oh ! Guy, do not be angry. But Mademoi- 
selle Catherine assures me that gentlemen in Paris 
are always paying compliments to the ladies and 
that there is not a particle of truth in their 
words ! ” 

“ Well, Mademoiselle Catherine is not indul- 
gent to the gentlemen of Paris ! All, however, 
are not deserving of such severity. There are 
exceptions. Mademoiselle Catherine would so 
acknowledge herself if she remained a little while 
in our city. I assure you, Arlette, that, on this 
head, when there is question of you, I have the 
right in conscience to claim my place among the 
exceptions ! ” 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


121 


“ Truly?” 

“ Truly ; do you believe me now ? ” 

Again she raised her bright eyes toward him. 
No, decidedly, he did not seem to be jesting with 
her. And she was right in judging thus of him. 
To him she had suddenly become a sort of little 
sister, very attractive with that simplicity and 
that complete absence of feminine vanity that 
gave her genuine * originality. lie repeated in 
the same friendly tone : 

“ Do you believe me ? ” 

‘‘ Oh ! yes. And it is so much better to believe 
you.” 

“Then be persuaded that I came back this 
evening for your sake alone.” 

“ For my sake ? ” 

“Yes, to bid you welcome officially. You see 
clearly that I am accoutred after the manner of 
a man who goes out in the world.” 

It was true. She had not remarked it, in her 
ignorance of worldly usages. He was in a dress 
coat, with some Parma violets blooming in his 
lapel, and his elegant and tall form was marvel- 
ously adapted to that evening costume. Seeing 
that she was examining him without answering, 
he asked curiously : 

“ Why are you studying me so with large at- 
tentive eyes ? Am I dressed wrong side out ? ” 

“ Oh ! What an idea ! I am looking at you 
because I find you all right ! ” 

“You are too good, my cousin,” he remarked, 
bowing and very much amused. 

“ Why is she too good ? ” questioned Made- 
leine, who had just arisen from the piano. 


122 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


Arlette's cheeks became purple ; she was sud- 
denly seized with the vague consciousness that 
she had said something entirely out of place. 

“ Ah ! Guy, do. not repeat my words, I entreat 
you,” she implored. 

Madeleine in surprise asked : 

“ What ? is it a secret ? ” 

“No, not a secret. I will tell you of what 
there is question at another time, when we shall 
be both alone! You will allow me, will you 
not?” 

Be it well understood that Madeleine allowed, 
and Arlette, relieved of her uneasiness, concluded 
in peace and reassurance her first evening in 
Paris. 


CHAPTER YIII. 


With her face leaning against the window 
pane, after having raised the blind halfway, 
Arlette was looking out, awaiting the moment 
when her aunt and Madeleine were going to leave 
the house to get into the coupe that was waiting 
for them. A few seconds more of patience, and 
they appeared, crossing the sidewalk. Then, 
ready to enter the carriage, they raised their 
heads toward the window and caught a glimpse 
of a slender shadow ; at this they made a friendly 
sign of adieu to the child, whom Madame Chau- 
sey’s excessive care kept in the house because of 
a cold. 

Arlette was not very ill ! At Douarnenez she 
would scarcely have taken any notice of this 
cold, and would have walked out freely as ordi- 
narily in the open air. But Madame Chausey, 
being very much afraid of all maladies, showed 
extreme prudence even in regard to the slightest 
indispositions ; and she had deemed it wise not to 
expose Arlette to the biting temperature of that 
winter day. 

Arlette, on her part, was by no means fright- 
ened at a few hours of solitude. An attractive 
idea had, moreover, sprung up in her brain, as 
soon as she knew that she was not going out, 
namely, to read carefully again in peace the 
diary that she had scrawled since her arrival in 
123 


124 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


Paris, and thus to live over again the ten or more 
delightful weeks that she had already spent there. 

Ten weeks and over ! Scarcely did she believe 
it herself. So as not to have any doubt of it, 
she must truly have the proof, by counting the 
days on the little calendar on which was marked 
with a stroke the date of her arrival. How they 
had fled, sweet, charming, imperceptible, those 
days that, in advance, at Douarnenez, she thought 
must be so limited in number ! She Avas mis- 
taken, then, in thinking that she could not live 
with pleasure away from her father ? Neverthe- 
less, God knows with what ardent tenderness she 
ever loved him ; how much she mingled his 
memory with all that she was doing ; how she 
longed for his letters and answered them in ver- 
itable volumes that were further completed by 
her diary ! A diary, however, which the doctor 
would read only when she returned, for it was a 
friend from which she did not wish to be sepa- 
rated. 

Even that very morning she had received from 
him one of those very long chats which she read 
and re-read, so as to know them by heart, Guy 
pretended. She took up the sheets once more, 
running over them greedily, as if it was the first 
time they had come before her gaze ; then, pen- 
sive, she thought for a moment, her eyes sunk in 
the bright flame of the fire, and through her 
thinking there passed altogether the distant vi- 
sions of her Breton home and the quite recent 
images of her life as a Parisian girl. They were 
decidedly sAveet to call up, were those recollec- 
tions, since, to resuscitate them still better, she 


LITTLE AELETTE. 


125 


went olT to look in her little desk for the already 
numberless pages that had sprung into being 
under her alert and capricious pen, guided by the 
need of expansion innate with her. And with 
her fingers slipped through her hair and her 
head bowed, she set to reading, letting her glance 
run first over the earlier pages : 

“November 10. 

“Well, Paris is not at all as I imagined it. And 
even at the first moment it caused me a disillu- 
sion. I expected, I now notice, to find a sort of 
marvelous city like those of the tales, filled with 
palaces, with I know not exactly what, but not 
resembling anything that I had yet seen. Guy 
was right when he said so to me at Douarnenez, 
and I have a mind to poke fun at myself when 
I think of the strange idea that I formed of it. 
Such as it is, it pleases me decidedly, does this 
Paris, now that I am accustomed to these houses 
so tall that they stifled me for the first few days ; 
to these interminable streets all grey, letting one 
scarcely see — and very indistinctly — a miserable 
little bit of sky ; to its crushers^ its omnibuses I 
mean, that are ever advancing like machines 
menacing ordinary carriages and poor folks 
obliged to cross the street. 

“ Parenthetically, it is very amusing to be in a 
crusher ! People are seated facing one another, 
are looking at one another, are examining one 
another, are making little remarks, are striving 
to fathom at the first glance the character of 
their neighbors, are imagining their history, etc. 
Unfortunately, I have been in one only once ; 


126 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


and yet, because I was with Guy, who noticed 
the desire that I had for it, and with Miss Ashton 
— Charlotte’s and Madeleine’s old governess, a 
very stiff and very solemn English woman, who 
adores them, speaks French most wretchedly, and 
is as indefatigable a walker as myself. As for 
Charlotte, as her Pierre is an inveterate trotter, 
she is quite ready to trot after him ! 

“ It was naturally in a carriage that I made my 
first trip through Paris ; and the more that trip 
advanced, the more did I lose my bearings ! This 
Paris was certainly interesting to me, since it was 
new to me, but it did not attract me ; my sympa- 
thy for it was not at all awakened ! It appeared 
to me as grey as the sky loaded with fog. A 
dull, fine rain made the many, oh ! how many ! 
passers-by disappear under their umbrellas, and 
one could distinguish only large, or rather big, 
or little, or graceful, or different other shadows. 
But of figures there were none ! The shops only 
caused me no disappointment. Far from it ! 
When I penetrated into one of them, that of the 
Louvre, Madeleine explained to me, I was really 
seized with admiration of it. It seemed to me 
so beautiful and so immense ! But there were 
so many people there that, as on the previous 
evening at the railway station, fright seized me 
lest I should lose myself or be smothered ; and 
without reflecting, like a stupid little girl, I 
caught hold of Charlotte’s dress and ventured 
along only by hanging on to it. As regards 
Madeleine, she was as much at ease as if she were 
moving around alone in those galleries. She ad- 
vanced into the middle of that mob, ever calm. 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


127 


fine, elegant, without bumping against any one 
or being bumped against. For a second, on turn- 
ing round, she perceived my hand ever holding 
Charlotte’s skirt in a tight grasp, and she pouted 
slightly : 

“ ‘ Arlette, do not play the child so ! Do not 
clutch on to Charlotte ! No one does that ! It 
is not proper ! ’ 

“ It was the first time that I heard this last 
phrase fall from Madeleine’s lips. Now I can no 
longer count the number of times that she has 
come and pounced down on my inexperience! 

“While my aunt and Charlotte were choosing 
in that shop — like to a city of merchandise — a 
quantity of things of every sort, I used all the 
power of my eyes in contemplating the buyers, 
in the first place, nearly all dressed as no one is 
at Douarnenez, leaving on their way a fine little 
perfume ; in contemplating also the multitude of 
articles sold in that astonishing shop, articles 
so pretty that I would have liked to buy all of 
them ! 

“ And so when my aunt, after having chosen a 
stuff of adorable delicate grey, said to me : ‘ It 
is for you, Arlette. Since you are my daughter, 
for the moment, it is indeed as little as I can do 
to complete your trousseau ! ’ I was so delighted 
that I embraced her warmly while exclaiming 
that she was a love of an aunt, not thinking that 
we were not alone. 

“ A lady who was buying near us all at once 
assumed a mien of such astonishment that I be- 
came conscious of having borne myself like a 
young savage. On his part the salesman laughed 


128 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


in his beard and cast discreet, but curious, glances 
at me. My aunt did not seem angry. In con- 
fusion I whispered to her : 

“ ‘ Aunt, forgive me for making myself so 
ridiculous ! ’ 

“ She answered me in very lady -like fashion : 

“ ‘ Little girls of your age are never ridiculous 
when they show their pleasure.’ 

“ ‘ Only they would do better not to show it 
in public, would they not ? ’ I said, in conclu- 
sion. 

“ My aunt burst out laughing : 

“ ‘ Marvelous ! Solomon himself Avould not 
have spoken better.’ 

“And thereupon we reentered the carriage to 
resume the series of journeys that at this moment 
completely absorb my aunt and Charlotte, thanks 
to the approaching marriage. They are so taken 
up with it as to weary those who, like myself, 
have no concern but to look at them doing it ! 
Happily they do not seem at all exhausted, 
though my aunt repeats from time to time, in a 
tone of conviction : ‘ I can do no more ! ’ 

“But Guy assures me that this is a phrase 
used by every true Parisian woman, in which 
there is not an atom of truth. To make the 
rounds of the shops is a routine with Parisian 
women, it seems. 

“ Following the day’s programme, we Avent to 
a dressmaker’s of high renown, who sold hats such 
as the inhabitants of Douarnenez, and even of 
Quimper, have no idea of ; hats that very soon 
explained to me why, before I went out, Char- 
lotte, Avho is cleverness personified, had brought 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


129 


about in tlie work of Madame Morgane’s mil- 
liner an unexpected transformation to which it 
owed an entirely new appearance. 

“Before tall and innumerable mirrors ladies 
were seated, almost as elegant as the chief and 
the assistant milliners. These latter, under the 
eye of the grand mistress of the establishment, 
placed the hats on their heads. And then the 
ladies examined themselves to right, to left, in 
profile, with extreme attention. Never until 
then had I suspected that the choosing of a hat 
could be so important ! One of them especially, 
and far from being the prettiest in the world, 
quite interested me, so serious was she in con- 
templating on her decidedly loose hair the differ- 
ent hats that the milliner put on her to try. The 
funniest thing is that her husband was with her — 
as tall a youn^ man as Guy ; — he was as ab- 
sorbed as she in the examination of Madame 
Caroline’s masterpieces. I found him quite ri- 
diculous in that fashion shop, in the midst of all 
those ladies, with his business-like countenance, 
as much so as if he had been entrusted with pre- 
venting the explosion of a bomb. But at the 
same time he amused me so, and I was so taken 
up with looking at him, that I did not hear my 
aunt calling to me after she had been speaking 
for a long time to Madame Caroline : 

“‘-Arlette! Arlettel’ 

“ Charlotte brought me back to reality by ca- 
ressing me on the cheek with the violets fastened 
in her vest ; and . . . oh! would that Ma- 

dame Morgane had been present at that scene! 
. . . At this point my aunt made me too sit 


130 


LITTLE AllLETTE. 


down in front of a glass, and, behold ! on my 
head Madame Caroline took upon herself the 
duty of making appear in succession a series of 
her masterpieces. She put them on me deli- 
cateh^ arranging, on this side and on that, the 
wild meshes of my hair, and then she drew back, 
turning her stout little womanish form, throwing 
back her head covered with red copper-colorea 
hair, half shutting her eyes, and spreading her 
self in quite extraordinary phrases : 

‘“Yes, the design is harmonious and fine! A 
real Greuze, or rather a Kecamier. A poem, 
madam, do you not think, is that hat over that 
face? Youth defying winter! It is a treat to 
have to cover a head of such original and piquant 
grace ! We will make a marvel. I see it already. 
The bud is being born. The flower is going to 
bloom ! She will please you certainly, madam.’ 

“And between these exclamations she was 
laughing with a satisfied laugh that made me 
think of the cackling of chickens when one 
throws grain to them. From among the number 
of those masterpieces she took one of such odd 
form and so plumed that I bounded, despite my 
confidence in Madame Caroline. 

“ ‘ Oh ! do not put such a hat on me as that ! I 
would look like the educated dogs that one some- 
times sees on the Pilgrimage day.’ 

“Madame Caroline took to cackling afresh. 
But her mien was a little less merry, and I 
guessed that my exclamation had been taken 
with very bad grace. With dignity she an- 
swered me : 

“ ‘ You may rest at ease, miss. Never have our 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


131 


customers the appearance of educated dogs. If 
it were otherwise we would not have a patronage 
so exceptionally numerous and distinguished.’ 

A warmth mounted to my cheeks. But Ma- 
dame Caroline did not appear to notice it, and, 
casting aside the hat that I had treated in such 
irreverent fashion, she placed on my head an- 
other that received general approbation, includ- 
ing my own. But I took very good care not to 
express it, fearing lest I might again articulate 
some stupid phrase. Indeed at that moment, 
noticing myself in a glass, I produced the im- 
pression on myself of another person, thus cov- 
ered with an ‘ideal’ hat — to speak like Ma- 
dame Caroline — and attired in the dress that my 
aunt had had made for me in advance, in accord- 
ance with your desire, dear father, and which I 
found on my arrival. I had the appearance of a 
real young lady ; I seemed much taller than 
ordinarily, and my form also was quite different, 
much better ! At last — I may acknowledge it in 
a whisper — I found myself quite genteel ! I am 
sure that Madame Morgane and Blanche, seeing 
me thus transformed, would no longer have 
dared to make use of me as an illustration that 
little women are only mean defective creatures. 
Moreover, if they had so held, I would not 
have believed them ! And especially would I 
not have wept, as I did of old, when a stupid 
little thing, at the idea that I was a defective 
creature. 

“I left Madame Caroline’s delighted, and I con- 
tinued to be so in the carriage, when, all of a 
sudden, a shadow passed over my joy. My aunt, 


132 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


after having celebrated, in company with Char- 
lotte, Madame Caroline’s talents, concluded thus 
jokingly : 

“ ‘ The misfortune is that they are talents which 
come quite high. Ah ! it is not a saving to get 
one’s daughter married ! ’ 

“ Suddenly, father, I remembered that you had 
recommended me to be very, very saving, to 
spend as little as possible ; and I was seized by 
the fear that it is quite necessary to spend much 
money in order to be dressed as I was going to 
be for Charlotte’s wedding. I did not know 
how to ask my aunt to reassure me, and, in my 
embarrassment, I had become silent, quite against 
my custom ; so much so that my aunt noticed it, 
and asked me smilingly : 

“ ‘ What ails you, Arlette ? Are you still afraid 
of having been head-dressed like an educated dog 
by Madame Caroline ? ’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! no. But . . . but ... I was 

afraid of not having enough money to pay for 
my pretty toilet ! ’ 

“ That was not exactly what I thought, but 
truly the acknowledgment seemed to me too 
hard to articulate. And my aunt looked at me 
with eyes that I did not understand. They were 
very affectionate, but serious, and I asked right 
quickly : 

“ ‘ Oh ! aunt, you are not angry with me, are 
you? It is because papa has so recommended 
me to be saving, and I am asking myself how to 
be so ! ’ 

“ ‘ Well, we will teach you ; be at ease, dear. I 
sincerely hope that your father will be satisfied 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


133 


with you and with us on this point ! Have con- 
fidence in me.’ 

“ I did not ask better, and I breathed a sigh of 
relief on seeing my aunt so sure of her position. 
As we were in the carriage, sheltered from the 
looks of the curious, I embraced her with all my 
strength to thank her, and I could again be gay, 
except when I thought of you, father. 

“ Certainly, it gave me pleasure on my own ac- 
count to know that at Charlotte’s wedding I 
would be quite Cinderella metamorphosed by her 
godmother ; but that delighted me much more 
still on Guy’s account, with whom I am to be 
collector. I was certain, in this way, not to be 
to him a subject of shame, as had been predicted 
to me by Madame Morgane, and by Blanche 
especially, who missed no opportunity to repeat 
to me that Guy, finding me so little after the 
Paris style, would not like to go around with 
me, etc. The most unfortunate thing is that, 
without acknowledging it, I had taken to believ- 
ing him since I could compare myself with my 
cousins ; it came at last to seem to me that Guy 
must surely judge me in that way. 

“ And so, as I was now pacified, I wanted him 
also to be so immediately. And during his ap- 
pearance for a moment at the house, on the even- 
ing of that memorable afternoon, I announced to 
him that he would see a transformed Arlette at 
Charlotte’s wedding, and would not have to 
blush for my country girl’s costume, as Blanche 
said. 

‘ Then, you will be very beautiful ? ’ 

“ Modestly I replied : 


134 


jMTTLE aklette. 


“ ‘ I will be genteel. ... I hope . . 

“ ‘ And you are delighted at this prospect ? ’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! yes ! ’ 

“ That smile, the meaning of which I have not 
yet succeeded in fathoming, ran under his mus- 
tache : 

“ ‘ There is an “ oh ! yes ! ” prompted by convic- 
tion. H’m, Mademoiselle Arlette. Has Paris 
already made its unfortunate influence felt in 
you ? Is it making you coquettish ? ’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! no, I was already so at Douarnenez.’ 

“‘You were so? Keally ? How do you know 
it?’ 

“ ‘ Because Captain Malouzec told me so, pre- 
cisely on the day when I declared to him that I 
was satisfied, as much so as one could be, at hav- 
ing learned that I was not a wretched abortion ! ’ 

“ And effusively I concluded : 

“ ‘ And it is you who have taught me so. And 
so I will be forever grateful to you for it ! ’ 

“‘You are a thousand times too good, my 
cousin. I do not deserve so much. From a 
spirit of justice I merely wanted to rectify 
some slightly erroneous opinions of Madame 
Morgane on this point. Do not take the trou- 
ble to speak to me of your gratitude, but rather 
do me the favor of telling me your first impres- 
sions of Paris.’ 

“ I did not ask better. It is so amusing to 
babble ! I told him everything, my opinion of 
the criishers^ of the employees of the Louvre 
shop, of Madame Caroline and her products, 
of gentlemen who buy their wives’ hats. I 
asked Guy whether, like me, he did not find 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


135 


them ridiculous in this personage. He answered 
with a very decided ‘ certainly.’ 

“ How well we understand ourselves with Guy ! 
I would that he were ray brother, my big brother; 
but all the same I would keep Corentin and Yves, 
Avhom I love so much ! ” 


“ November 14. 

“ Mademoiselle Catherine has come to bid me 
adieu. She sets out for home this evening. I 
embraced and reembraced her I do not know 
liow many times, as if my kisses could leave on 
her countenance something of me that you would 
feel, dear father, when she will go to see you on 
my account. 

“ When the door closed behind her, I had a 
shuddering in my heart, feeling myself alone, 
quite alone this time, in Paris, entirely separated 
from my Breton country. 

“ But this impression has not lasted. I can now 
no longer find myself lost in Paris as the first 
day. All here are exceedingly kind to me ! 
And so, I love them ! But not all in the same 
manner; — to my paper I can well entrust the 
real truth ! — Madeleine continues to intimidate 
me much, in reality, with her unalterable 
wisdom and her equally unalterable calm. Be- 
cause of Charlotte’s marriage the whole house is 
in agitation, and I am like the house : Madeleine 
herself remains a real lake, without a breath of 
wind, without a wave. As during the rest of 
the year, I am sure, for hours she studies her 
piano with a patience that astonishes me ; so 
often does she repeat the same passages ! She 


136 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


paints flowers, copying her model petal by petal, 
and she embroi(lers without relaxation on mi- 
nute works, not seeming to have the least doubt 
in the world that treasures of attention are neces- 
sary to reach a satisfactory conclusion. She fol- 
lows courses, as people say here, and for her own 
pleasure ! for she has no more need at all of tak- 
ing instructions. Such is my aunt’s opinion, and 
I, between ourselves, hold the same view. 

“IIow much science there is in Madeleine’s 
brain! When I think of it, I am penetrated 
with admiration for her — with one of those ad- 
mirations that overwhelm you with the idea of 
your own unworthiness ; and I understand how 
she very often finds (I suspect) that I say or do 
stupid things, that is to say ‘ incorrect ’ things, 
since she strives to conceal her impression from 
me. But I now know her face too well to per- 
mit myself to be mistaken ! When a certain lit- 
tle fold appears between her eyebrows, I am sure 
that I have put on my conscience some little 
stupidity or other. 

“ And then my astonishments, my admirations, 
my antipathies to her I regard in general as some- 
what ridiculous. She seems as if saying to me : 
‘ What a child you are, then, Arlette ! ’ Which 
falls on me like a rather cold wave and forces on 
me the resolve to keep all my ideas to myself. 
Only that it is a resolve which it would be im- 
possible for me to keep ! I am too much accus- 
tomed to letting them take wing as soon as seems 
good to them. Captain, how would you like to 
get them together ? 

“ With my aunt and Charlotte I am quite at 


LITTLE AELETTE. 


137 


ease. Them at least I never scandalize! But 
they have something else to do besides listen to 
me babble. Moreover, Charlotte is always with 
Pierre, concerned with her Pierre when she is 
not the prey of seamstresses, milliners, etc. 

“ Fortunately for me all alone I have Guy, my 
great friend. A great friend whom I hardly 
ever see at leisure, for example. Every day, no 
doubt, he comes to the house ; but, except occa- 
sionally, on short visits — at least they seem so to 
me — and then he goes away I know not whither. 
I would like to know even what that ‘ whither ’ 
is. I have asked Charlotte about it — not Made- 
leine, bear in mind — and the only information I 
got was as follows with a smile that I did not 
understand : 

“ ‘ I cannot tell you whither Guy is going. He 
entrusts me with no secrets. Ask him if you de- 
sire to know.’ 

“ ‘ Will not that make him angry ? ’ 

‘ Oh ! no ! ’ 

“ That ver}^ da}^, as Guy had come for a mo- 
ment before dinner, I served up my question to 
him quite warm. He seemed rather astonished 
thereat, so that I thought he also was going to 
answer me in Madeleine’s famous phrase : ‘ It is 
not proper ! ’ But he seemed pleased with me 
on that account, and, in that tone which never 
tells me whether he is speaking seriously or not, 
he repeated : 

“ ‘ Where do I go when I leave you ? Well, ac- 
cording to the hour, I dine in town, or I go to 
the theatre, or to the races, or to pay visits, etc. 
In a word, I taste of all the charms of life ! ’ 


138 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


“ ‘ How happy you are, Guy ! I also would like 
to taste of them as you do, for they must be de- 
lightful when you thus give all your time to 
them ! ’ 

“ To my great surprise, he gave a most belittling 
shrug of the shoulders to the charms in question, 
and answered me without jesting : 

“ ‘ Rest quite assured that they do not deserve 
to be regretted by any person having even the 
shadow of reason. Ah ! what a daughter of Eve 
you are, little Arlette ! ’ 

“ Thereupon he left, after having kissed the tips 
of his fingers to me. My ideas had not been 
enlightened a particle by his answers ! 1 was 

a little put out at this, but not as much as I 
might have imagined. And, how odd ! it is be- 
cause I like to feel myself an ignorant little girl 
as compared with Guy, who has as much experi- 
ence as a very old man. I see it in his eyes, I 
guess at it by what he says, and also by what he 
does not say ! Sometimes, while chatting with 
my aunt, or again with his friend Pierre, he con- 
structs a phrase that to me has a slight air of 
simplicity, and my aunt, or Pierre, bursts out 
laughing. As for me, I do not at all understand 
the cause of their sudden hilarity, and that pro- 
vokes me. I have a desire to call to Guy : 

‘ Since you are my friend, teach me how to under- 
stand all that the great personages are saying ! 
I am no longer a “ little one ” ! I am almost 
eighteen ! ’ 

“ And yet I say nothing of the sort to him, not 
because Madeleine would perhaps whisper to me 
her eternal ‘ not proper ! ’ but because it is 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


139 


agreeable to me to be to Guy a sort of baby of 
whom he is obliged to take care ! ” 

“November 16 . 

“ Beginning with yesterday, I am in love with 
Paris ! To me it is no longer an immense assem- 
blage of houses through which, here and there, 
are scattered some trees whose poor roots are 
crushed under the asphalt. I have understood 
that it had beauties of its own ; I was quite in 
the Avrong in not noticing them, because they 
Avere different from the beauties that I love above 
all — those that the good God has made and in 
which men count as nothing, like the sea, sun- 
sets, lloAvers. . . . 

“ What has reconciled me Avith Paris is my 
visit a little Avhile ago to Notre Dame ; and I 
OAve that visit to Guy. Yesterday, as he Avas 
questioning Madeleine on the programme for our 
rounds to-day, she answered him with a list of 
trips that staggered him : 

“ ‘ What ! so many concerns for a single after- 
noon ! But you are going to kill this poor little 
Arlette ! And do you not reckon that she must 
be mortally Aveary from Avalking so incessantly 
from shop to shop.’ 

“ In that respect Guy Avas entirely mistaken ! 
But I did not dream of protesting, Avhen I heard 
him continue : 

“ ‘ It Avould be much better Avere she to visit a 
little of Paris. Louise, send her, then, “ on a pil- 
grimage, ” under Miss Ashton’s tutelage, if you 
have not the leisure to escort her.’ 

“ ‘ It Avould be very Avell, ’ remarked my aunt. 


140 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


‘if Miss Ashton spoke French. But she stam- 
mers as much as if she had just landed from 
England. She and Arlette would not under- 
stand each other and would lose each other in 
Baris, were I to send them alone.’ 

“ ‘ But you might send them under my escort. 
Let us see, Arlette, will you come, you and your 
bodyguard, and visit Notre Dame, for example, 
since you are so fond of churches, accepting me 
for a cavalier.’ 

“ I received the proposition with delight. But 
my aunt, and I ask myself why, showed hesita- 
tion. She muttered some words to Guy, among 
which I caught on the wing Madeleine’s dear 
‘ proper.’ At last Guy, fortunately, made his 
idea prevail, and to-day all three of us set out for 
Notre Dame, in a crusher^ as I desired. I always 
much prefer crushers^ in which one has air 
and light, to the hackneys, that are veritable lit- 
tle boxes on wheels in which one does not 
breathe. 

“ Oh ! Notre Dame ! How right Guy was in 
bringing me thither. In the first place, because 
of the flower marlcet which adjoins it and as we 
passed it was giving out the scent of the lilacs 
and roses of the South ; then because the church 
is itself of a beauty that completely overcame 
me. I was filled with respect, on penetrating 
into it, at the mere idea of the number of years 
Avhose weight it bears. It produced on me the 
effect of a very noble, very majestic, and very be- 
nevolent old lady who would at once inspire you 
with the desire of prostrating. 

“ Guy, who adores Notre Dame — on its own 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


141 


account, — though being a Parisian, — declared 
that we ought to comport ourselves as tourists 
and see everything. And so we have seen every- 
thing, including the treasure and the towers ! 

“ When we arrived at the top of one of the 
towers, after having crawled up step by step, I 
thought I had been carried straight into the 
heavens. On leaving the interminable stairways, 
I saw the blue, more blue, an infinite blue, deli- 
cate and soft, which was not veiled by a single 
cloud ; and then a clearness of sunshine, limpid 
and transparent, with which I felt myself envel- 
oped as by the winter wind that was biting our 
faces. Around us there was nothing but space 
full of light. And then at our feet, very low 
down and quite crushed looking, the mass of 
houses extending so far that they were con- 
founded with the mist on the horizon. I was 
struck at seeing so many of them, at thinking 
also of the number of persons who were living 
under those innumerable roofs, glittering in the 
sun, persons whom I knew not, whom I would 
never know, some of whom were very happy and 
others, O God ! unhappy, since it seems that there 
are many also of the latter. 

‘‘ ‘ What are you dreaming of, Arlette, witli 
that grave mien ? ’ Guy questioned. 

“ ‘ I was asking myself whether, in all those 
houses, there are surely happy than un- 

happy people. There are more of the former, 
are there not ? ’ 

“ ‘ Let us hope so, indeed.’ 

“‘You do not believe so, Guy? You speak 
without conviction.’ 


142 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


“ ‘ It is because in that 3'OU are agitating a big 
question, little queen, which has made whole 
schools of philosophers meditate, without having 
much light thrown on it. And as for me, who 
am not precisely a learned philosopher, I would 
not dare try to solve it. Let us hope together 
that the sum total of mortals satisfied with their 
lot is greater than the sum total of those who 
are not so ; and thus we will bear ourselves as 
perfect optimists ! ’ 

“ At that moment, b}^ Guy’s look and tone, I 
guessed that he was speaking from inspiration 
gained from his old man’s experience, and I 
would have liked to be able to enter into his 
thoughts, to unravel what was going on in them. 
Our eyes met, and, changing tone, he concluded 
pleasantly : 

“ ‘ I suppose, moreover, that I am preaching to 
a convert. I have no need to recommend to you 
indulgence toward poor life, so often calumni- 
ated, even by those who owe most to it. Eest 
satisfied for a long time with picturing it to your- 
self as attractive as the palaces inhabited b}^ j^our 
friends the fairies.’ 

“ ‘ Well, it is not at all such as I represent it to 
myself. To me it resembles one of my preferred 
paths, down there near Douarnenez, stretching 
along the sea. It is not beautiful throughout its 
whole length, is that favorite of mine ; at cer- 
tain places heather, broom, all sorts 6f pretty 
little plants are an escort to it ; then, elsewhere 
they disappear ; there remains iDut the thin and 
red grass in summer. But, without taking any 
concern of its surroundings, my path is ever 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


143 


stretching out until it stops short in front of an 
enormous rent in the cliff. Then it is a void. 
That is the end.’ 

“ I took such pleasure in speaking again of my 
dear path, the view from which out to sea has no 
parallel, that I forgot the place where I was, and 
I was almost astonished at hearing Guy’s voice 
resound : 

“ ‘ Little Arlette, you speak like a wise old man ! 
But wise old men are fragile folk, do not forget 
it, and on this tower it is as cold as in Siberia ; 
let us get down quickly, or you are going to catch 
cold.’ 

“ As Guy’s tone did not at all resemble that of 
Madame Morgane when she commands me to do 
even the least little thing, I obeyed him at once ; 
and then began our visit to the church, a visit 
that interested me so much, especially when the 
declining day was making the cathedral more at- 
tractive, more collected as it were, so that night 
had almost come already when we at last 
emerged from it, ever faithfully followed by 
Miss Ashton. Paris was quite grey now, and as 
the street lamps were being lighted, it had the 
appearance of being filled with great yellow 
stars. Accordingly, as it so pleased me, I asked 
Guy to return on foot. He said to me : 

“ ‘ But it is too far ! You will be exhausted on 
getting home, and Louise will scold me.’ 

“ I at once assured him and repeated that I had 
been in the habit of taking very long walks; 
that, during vacations, Yves, Corentin and 1 
trotted around for hours, for we are all three of 
us indefatigable. 


144 LITTLE ARLETTE. 

“ ‘ And you, little girl, are appropriately alert. 
I remember the rose-colored young person who 
was running up a cliff-road at Douarnenez. 
Come, let us walk, since it amuses you. You 
have done me the favor of accepting me as cava- 
lier, I must obey you, must I not ? If you have 
had more courage than strength, we will at any 
time indeed find some vehicle or other to pick us 
up.’ 

“ And so all three of us set out, after having 
taken our farewell — I at least — of the cathedral, 
which seemed to me still more imposing, its tall 
stone outline enveloped in shadow. We at first 
followed the Seine, bespecked with red flames as 
fugitive as will-o’-the-wisps ; fly-boats, Guy ex- 
plained to me, as I confided my impression to 
him. 

“ Thereupon he took to questioning me, not at 
all from curiosity, but with an interest that 
opened my heart as much as my lips, about my 
life at Douarnenez, about what I did, read, loved, 
etc. I was so satisfied to speak of my country 
that I began to babble as I do with the captain. 
From the manner in which Guy questioned and 
answered me, I was sure that I was not wearying 
him ; but, from the sound of his voice I indeed 
guessed that while listening to me he had in his 
eyes that glimmer of curiosity and amusement 
that I am beginning to know, but which no 
longer puts me out of humor, now that he is my 
great friend. It was a perfect night, and so clear 
that I could point out to him the star which is 
my habitual confidant, that to which I tell my 
wild ideas, my desires, my hopes, when I am not 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


145 


telling them to my other faithful friend, the sea. 
Those confidants, at least, ever listen to me, with- 
out answering me in the name of morality. 

“ ‘ And you do not love morals ? ’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! no ! not any more than I would love a 
grumbling, severe, fault-finding old person who 
was ever throwing obstacles between me and the 
things that tempt me.’ 

“ ‘ Perhaps the forbidden things tempt you more 
than the others ? ’ 

“ ‘ Yes, quite certainly ! And so, what tempests 
have arisen between Madame Morgane and me ! 
Especially when her for biddings were unjust. 
But, to avoid being balked by her in my inten- 
tions, the boys and I always did in great haste 
what we had in our heads. After that it was 
seen . . .’ 

“ ‘ What was seen ? ’ 

“ ‘ How Madame Morgane’s eyes shot lightning 
flashes, and she was heard fulminating a little 
against the boys and very much against my poor 
person, who received all sorts of names. One 
day she called me an “imp of satan.” 1 did not 
know very clearly what this odd name might 
mean. I searched in my story and legend books, 
etc. I found no explanation. What does it 
mean ? ’ 

“ ‘ Nothing at all ! It is an expression without 
either head or tail,’ Guy vigorously replied. 

“ If Madame Morgane had heard ! 

“ I was no better informed. As he asked me 
what had earned for me such an epithet, I told 
him of my escapade of old with Y ves, whom 1 
had lured away one evening into the garden to 


146 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


see whether, as it struck midnight, fairies would 
emerge from the corollse of all the flowers and 
would come and dance, in company with the hob- 
goblins, as I had read in a very pretty story. 
Vves was only scarce seven years old and was 
dying of fright. He hid his eyes under his fists, 
expecting the hobgoblins. As for me, my heart 
was beating with heavy thumps, but I was look- 
ing with all my eyes. Midnight struck. The 
moon did not light up any of the apparitions 
that I expected. Neither sprites nor hobgoblins 
showed themselves. The flowers remained flow- 
ers. From that night I ceased believing in the 
truth of the marvelous beautiful legends. I was 
sorry, very sorry for it ! And, in my discourage- 
ment at seeing that they were only lies, I pushed 
Yves, who did not budge, to make him return. 
But he had gone to sleep and, feeling himself 
touched, he thought that a hobgoblin wanted to 
carry him off. H e began to utter such loud cries 
that the whole house was awakened by them and 
ran out. Madame Morgane, in her nightcap, 
called me ‘ an imp of Satan,’ exclaiming that I 
wished her son’s death, that 1 was a veritable 
sorceress, etc. Then, she maltreated me as she 
])leased, for papa was at Quimper and could not 
defend me. And no more did the hobgoblins 
come to my assistance. It is true that I no 
longer believed in them ! 

“ ‘ Whence their right to abandon you, suppos- 
ing even that they had existed. Little Arlette, 
you speak very deep words.’ 

“ Was he speaking seriously, or was he poking 
fun at me ? We advanced a "few steps in silence. 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


147 


Of what indeed could he be thinking ? To 
oblige him to continue the conversation, I asked 
him, being in my turn desirous of hearing his 
narratives : 

“ ‘ And, Guy, were you unbearable when 3 ^ou 
were small ? ’ 

“ ‘ Indeed I was, I think, quite sufficiently, if 1 
am to place any confidence in Louise’s opinion.’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! Guy, tell me stories of “ when you were 
small,” stupid things that you did. It will be 
funny to hear you tell them now that you are 
wise ! ’ 

“Guy began to laugh. 

“ ‘ I thank you, Arlette, for being at this point 
certain of my wisdom. I do not deserve so much 
honor. “ Stories of when I was small ? ” But I 
do not recall any that are worth the trouble of 
being exhumed from the oblivion in which they 
sleep. I imagine that I was a lad like other 
lads.’ 

“‘I7ot, I am certain, like Corentin and Yves! 
You must, in the first place, have formed plans 
for the time when you would be a man. Papa 
says that all boys do so, and he becomes impa- 
tient when Yves declares that it is all the same 
to him to be anything at all.’ 

“‘But, certainly, 1 had very lofty ambitions. 
In my early youth, because 1 had an extreme 
tenderness for horses, I thought of being an 
equerry in a circus. Then, about my seventeenth 
year, I believed myself a prodigy, a sort of great 
man, because a periodical of the twenty-fifth 
rank, at least, accepted some of my schoolboy 
elucubrations. Then a slight dose of wisdom 


148 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


came to me with years, I humbly renounced 
literary glory, I confined myself to taking a hand 
at profane music, but lovingly, and to daubing in 
the same way. I buried together my ambitious 
dreams and my early illusions, and, not being- 
able to hope for more, I resigned myself to being 
but a poor man of the world, that is to say, an 
elegant inutility, if not worse.’ 

“ Guy became suddenly silent. I was somewhat 
embarrassed by his tone, which had become iron- 
ical and almost sad ; yes, sad ! and bitter also ! 
The idea flashed through my mind that he had 
just spoken much more for himself than for me. 
But, after a few seconds of silence, I again heard 
his voice, Avhich had regained its customary so- 
norousness ; and he said to me pleasantly : 

“ ‘ Little Arlette, to what confidences are you 
not thus enticing me? Forget very speedily my 
fantastic opinions of myself, and come in and 
have a taste of pastry. Since you are a Parisian 
girl, you must assume Parisian habits.’ 

“ Then we had some pastry. Miss Ashton and 
I, while crunching our cakes, indulged in smiles 
at each other, since we could hardly exchange 
words, not understanding each other. Guy acted 
as interpreter. On leaving the confectioner’s, he 
offered me a big bouquet of violets of which he 
amiably volunteered to take charge, so that I 
could keep my hands in my muff, and I returned 
home delighted with my afternoon. My aunt 
said it was sheer folly to have returned on foot 
from Notre Dame — 1 understand her fright, as 
she never walks ! — that she would not again con- 
fide me to Guy, for he would soon kill me, etc. 


LITTLE AELETTE. 


149 


I reassured her as best I could . . . and I 

earnestly hope, on the contrary, that she will 
send me again out walking under Guy’s escort. 
It is so amusing, and we continue to understand 
each other so well, my great friend and I ! ” 

“November 20. 

“ One, two, three days more, and on the fourth 
will take place the ball that my aunt is giving on 
account of Charlotte’s marriage, and which Avill 
be the first of my life ! And so 1 cannot help 
thinking of it every minute, while trying to im- 
agine to myself that unknown pleasure which, for 
the moment, earns for me discreet exhortations 
to be calm on the part of Madeleine, who is de- 
tached from the vanities of this world — by rea- 
son of her scholarly characteristics, I suppose. 
As regards my aunt, it furnishes still more shop- 
ping trips for her. And yet, as she continues to 
be to me a true Cinderella’s godmother, in the 
midst of her occupations, she thought of ordering 
a ball dress for me, without saying anything to 
me about it. Yes, dear father, you have well 
heard, a ball dress, a real one, for me, your Ar- 
lette ! An exquisite dress ! a vaporous dress ! a 
dream ! 

“ When I saw this dream enter the little parlor 
where we were, at the dressmaker’s, I naturally 
thought that there still was question of some 
toilet for Charlotte, who spends her time trying 
on dresses these days. 

“ I said merely, with admiration : 

“ ‘ What a pretty toilet ! - It is like a rose 
leaf.’ 


150 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


‘ It pleases you ? So much the better, . . • 

for it is you, dear, who are destined to be dressed 
in this rose leaf.’ 

“‘I! truly,!?’ 

“That seemed to me impossible. Well, I was 
wrong. The delightful rosy cloud has become a 
skirt, delightful also, which gave me the ap^iear- 
ance of a young lady, and no mistake ! I looked 
at myself delighted, when my eyes were fastened 
on the bodice that the fitter fastened on me, and 
an exclamation escaped from me : 

“ ‘ Oh ! What a misfortune ! A large piece is 
missing from the body ! ’ 

“ My aunt, Charlotte, Madeleine, the fitter, with 
common accord fixed their eyes on that body. 

“ ‘ There is a piece missing ? AVhere ? ’ 

“ ‘ Well, above. One sees all my shoulders, all 
my arms ! What is one going to do ? ’ 

“I was in despair. Instead of consolations, 
what did I hear ? A general laugh, and Char- 
lotte said to me, in the midst of that fit of ex- 
traordinary gayety : 

“ ‘ Nothing at all will be done to your body. 
There is no piece missing in it. It is a low cut 
dress . . . it is all right that way ! ’ 

“ I was astonished and scandalized. 

“‘What ! Will I have to go to the ball thus 
undressed ? Madeleine, do you hear ? Of a cer- 
tainty, it is not proper to bear oneself in this 
way ! ’ 

“Madeleine, the wise Madeleine, laughed, so 
she did ! And she was not of my opinion ! And 
this was all the answer she had for me : 

“ ‘ It is the custom, Arlette. You have only to 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


151 


be resigned. Everybody wears a low-necked 
dress at the ball ! ’ 

‘“Then, it is proper, because it is the custom ? 
What a funny reason ! ’ 

“You will indeed be less warm in this way,’ 
Charlotte whispered to me, by way of encourage- 
ment. ‘ Moreover, ask your friend Guy. He 
will tell you himself that all women are dressed 
in this way when going to the ball.’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! Charlotte, you should rather say “ thus 
undressed ” ! ’ 

“ In spite of the repeated assurances of my aunt 
and of my learned cousins, I questioned Guy that 
very day, and he confirmed what they had said. 
There is nothing left for me now but to assume 
my part boldly ! 

“ My great friend arrived quite seasonably yes- 
terday evening. At my entreaty Madeleine Avas 
in the act of teaching me how to waltz ; but she 
did it in a manner so learned, obliging me to 
count so many steps, that I became quite mixed. 
My patience was taking wing, I was beginning 
to find the waltz a dance far too complicated 
for my ability, when Guy entered. Dear Guy ! 
He saw me out of sorts and asked me why. 
I exclaimed vehemently that the waltz was a 
veritable puzzle-brain. He began to laugh and 
answered : 

“ ‘ Come, you are going to learn without diffi- 
culty. Charlotte, play us something soul-stirring. 
And you, little queen, step out in time with the 
music.’ 

“ I stepped out. And it was marvelous. Was 
I stupid when I found waltzing difficult ? ” 


152 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


“November 24. 

“ Father, have you ever been to a ball ? If so, 
why have you not told me that it was a delight- 
ful invention ? How I now understand Cinder- 
ella and her tears when her wicked sisters left 
her at home to go there without her. Especially, 
as I understand how she forgot the hour and her 
godmother’s recommendations, when she saw her- 
self at the ball ! Did you know, also, papa, that 
it is another delightful thing to whirl around for 
a long time, with one’s eyes lost and one’s head 
also, at the sound of an orchestra that is singing 
waltzing airs to you ? Those who say that life 
is dull have never been to a ball, you may rest 
assured. 

“ Even the preparations for it were amusing. 
The whole apartment was in a state of bustle. 
There were carpet layers, florists, confectioners, 
etc. And all had conferences with my aunt, who 
was as full of business as a general must be on a 
day of battle. She was giving orders ; she was 
everywhere, she was impatient or happy, accord- 
ing to circumstances, she was supervising the in- 
stallation of the accessories of the cotillion — a 
dance still more charming than the others, for it 
lasts much longer, two or three hours ! a dance 
during which one never ceases to receive presents 
from one’s partner and to make them in return, 
and each time, by way of thanks, people waltz 
with each other. 

“ Charlotte was almost as agitated as my aunt ; 
so that she was somewhat forgetful of her Pierre. 
Madeleine alone remained always the same, useful 
everywhere with her fairy coolness. And so 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


153 


calm ! saying to me from one side and another, 
with a mien of astonishment : ‘ How agitated 
you are, Arlette ! ’ She spoke of it quite at her 
ease, did Madeleine : it was not her first ball ! 
As for me, it seemed to me that the evening 
would never come ! To keep myself engaged, 1 
went, from time to time, to cast a glance at my 
rose-leaf dress, at my fragment of a body, at ni}^ 
very long gloves which, at least, went a little 
way toward covering my arms, at my satin 
slippers, rose-colored also, genuine loves of slip- 
pers ! 

“ A little before dinner, as I found myself alone 
in the little parlor, I was unable to resist the 
temptation to dance a little, in order to see if I 
clearly remembered Guy’s lessons. And I was 
whirling around at my best, quick, quick, quick, 
when a voice called to me : 

‘‘‘Very good, very good, miss. What an apt 
pupil ! Thus to rehearse one’s lesson ! ’ 

“ I stopped short. It was Guy. 

“‘True, is it good ? Will the young men in- 
deed invite me ? ’ 

“ ‘Yes, I think so ! ’ 

“ ‘Do not think, I entreat you, be sure ! ’ 

“ ‘ I am sure that you will not lack for dancers.’ 
“‘You will bring all your friends to me, will 
you not? And you will not tell them that I 
took only a single lesson in dancing, otherwise 
they would be distrustful . . . they would 

shun me. And I desire so much to see the pro- 
gramme that Charlotte gave me filled up with 
names, and more names! I will bring it back 
such as it will be to Douarnenez, and Madame 


15 - 1 : 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


Morgane will be able to see that in Paris people 
did not find me such an abortion. There ! ’ 

“ ‘ There ! Madame Morgane will be punished 
as she deserves and as Mademoiselle Arlette 
wishes. And, now, will you allow your great 
friend to write his name first on your pro- 
gramme ? I will begin the precious series which 
will have for its affect henceforward to prevent 
the most terrible of stepmothers from calumniat- 
ing you.’ 

“ I exclaimed in delight : 

“ ‘ Oh ! yes, put down your name. Put it down 
as many times as possible. With you, at least, if 
I do or say things not proper, it is not too serious 
a matter.’ 

“ ‘ You are, then, saying things ‘‘ not proper ” ! ’ 

“ ‘ Madeleine finds it so. I notice it clearly ! ’ 

‘‘ ‘ By no means. You are mistaken. Believe 
in your great friend. And remain yourself, es- 
pecially ! ’ 

“ It was so kind of him to reassure me 
thus that I would have gladly sprung around 
his neck to thank him ; but I did not do so, 
father, you may rest assured. I merely said to 
him : 

“‘You are excellent, Guy. During the cotil- 
lion, take your stand near me so as to point out 
to me what I must do.’ 

“ ‘ That is understood, if I can. But this even- 
ing I will not belong to myself. I will be a sort 
of master of the house, and I will have to con- 
cern myself with all the ladies present, so as to 
set a good example.’ 

“ ‘ I pity you, Guy,’ I replied from the bottom 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


155 


of my heart ; ‘it must be very wearisome to set a 
good example ! ’ 

“Here our conversation was interrupted by the 
announcement that dinner was ready. 

“ Three hours later my dream was fulfilled : I 
was in my cloud dress, and I bore so little re- 
semblance to the everyday Arlette that I did not 
grow weary of contemplating myself. Fortu- 
nately I was quite alone in my room, and I could 
well at my ease examine that little rosy person 
who seemed to me too pretty to be I at all. 

“ Suddenly Madeleine called me. It was time 
to go to the parlors, because the invited guests 
would soon begin to arrive. She was quite 
ready, was Madeleine, and so charming that I no 
longer thought of admiring myself, so much was 
I taken up with looking at her, as well as Char- 
lotte and my aunt, as majestic as a queen. Guy 
came in just then; he took me all in with a 
glance, and as I know him to be a very severe 
critic, I asked him, seized with keen uneasiness : 

“ ‘ Am I not all right ? ’ 

“ ‘ That is to say, you are a great deal too much 
all right for the peace of our dancers. Do not be 
coquettish, little Arlette. Have pity on them.’ 

“I did not very clearly understand what he 
meant, inasmuch as he turned around and whis- 
pered to my aunt something like : ‘ She is ador- 
able thus. . . But I do not know whether 

it was of me that he Avas speaking, because, in- 
deed, I cannot hope that I was ‘ adorable.’ 

“ Some people had arrived already. My aunt, 
Charlotte and Pierre went and toolq their station 
at the entrance to the large parlor, and they be- 


156 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


gan a frightful outlay of smiles, salutations, 
amiable words and hand-shakings. Each moment 
I saw the surging of ladies, gentlemen, young 
men, young ladies who were wearing half bodies 
like myself. There came so many of them that 
I asked myself where they would all be put. 
Well, all were housed. For example, chairs were 
disappearing more and more, even in the small 
parlor, where curious ladies succeeded one another 
to admire the treasures that Pierre is giving to 
Charlotte. The gentlemen were more discreet, 
and were crowded in the corners. To my taste, 
they were generally too small. Guy, indeed, 
was among the tall ones, the only ones that please 
me. He was so taken up with performing all 
sorts of acts of politeness that I was afraid he 
would forget to present the promised dancers to 
me. At that very moment the orchestra, which 
until then had played only random airs, began a 
waltz. All at once the whole collection of black 
coats put themselves in motion and directed them- 
selves toward the collection of rosy, blue, mauve 
and green clouds that represented the young 
ladies. And toward me were they going to 
come ? It was not noticed that I danced very 
poorly ! 

“ Oh ! Guy, dear Guy ! He had not forgotten 
me. He came with a very genteel young man, 
who spoke to me the charming phrase which I 
heard for the first time : 

“ ‘ Will you, miss, do me the honor of granting 
me this waltz ? ’ 

“ I had to restrain myself so as not to call to 
him : ‘ But that is all I ask ! ’ I laid my hand on 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


157 


liis arm quite correctly, as I saw all the other 
young ladies do, and we began to turn, turn ! It 
was amusing ! 

“ And so I very well remember this first dancer, 
a tall blond, quite smiling, but the others are all 
mixed up in my memory. When I wish to recall 
them, I see only black coats and, surmounting the 
coats, brown, blond, red heads, mustaches, beards, 
but I no longer know to whom they belong. I 
find that at a ball, still more than anywhere else, 
men resemble one another. And their conversa- 
tions also ! All invariably began by making the 
same remarks or putting the same questions. Ko 
doubt there is a mundane catechism which they 
learn at the moment when they make their en- 
trance into the world and which they never for- 
get. ISTot one of them failed to say to me at 
first : 

“ ‘ A very fine ball is that of this evening. 
And then, the temperature is very agreeable, 
thanks to the electricity. Have you gone out 
much this winter, miss ? ’ 

“ To the first who put this question to me I 
answered in lively strain : 

‘‘ ‘ Oh ! no. It is the first time. And I would 
like to have many other balls still in prospect. 
It is so delightful to dance ! ’ 

“ He said to me with a disabused air which I 
found stupid : 

“ ‘ It is unfortunately a pleasure of which you 
will become over-sated.’ 

“ ‘ When I shall be old, perhaps, I do not say. 
But I am not in that vein . . . and it is only 

old ladies who can become over-sated.’ 


158 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


“ ‘ Not only, alas ! ’ 

“ Probably he was speaking for himself. How- 
ever, he was no longer very young ; he was at 
least thirty, scarcely any hair on his head and no 
freshness at all in his face. He seemed disposed 
to continue the conversation ; but I preferred to 
waltz. And we had begun to whirl again. 

“ I who had been afraid of running short of 
cavaliers ! I had more than were needed, because, 
when they had danced once with me, they re- 
turned to ask me for another dance, or "they 
brought their friends. In the intervals they re- 
mained to chat or led me to the buffet, the way 
to which they all knew very well. But I am 
afraid I said somewhat extraordinary things to 
them. They laughed as they listened to my im- 
pressions of Paris, of the world, and yet I strove 
to be as correct as Madeleine. 

“ To my taste the cotillion came too soon, for 
I knew that it would announce the end of the 
ball. All the time Charlotte was jumping from 
one end of the parlor to the other. Here and 
there she chose a young lady, made her perform 
all sorts of most graceful exercises, and the exer- 
cise was always concluded with waltz turns. I 
danced several times with Guy. He was the 
cavalier of a very pretty young lady, Jeanne 
d’Esteve, whom I had already seen once on a 
visit to my aunt’s, and who does not please me, I 
do not understand why, since I am always sym- 
pathetic to beautiful persons ! And she has 
shoulders like to red marble ; her movements are 
supple, almost caressing. But she has too much 
the air of a lady already. There are too many 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


159 


things in her eyes. And then she has a way of 
letting her look glide between her eyelids that 
displeased me still more when she made use of it 
in regard to Guy, who chatted a great deal with 
her. Fortunately I had not time to examine 
them. 

“ At last, after a triumphal march which all the 
dancers performed in the parlor in order to go 
and salute my aunt, majestically seated in her 
large armchair, the small supper-tables appeared. 
I was at that at which Guy sat. He asked me : 

“ ‘ Are you satisfied with your evening ? ’ 

“ I spoke a ‘ yes ! yes ! ’ with such conviction 
that everybody around me started laughing. 

“Was I satisfied! So much so that once in 
bed I strove not to let sleep take hold of me so 
as to begin over again the whole evening in my 
mind. And it was very easy, so clearly had I 
still in my eyes the images of the gentlemen and 
ladies whom I had found the best 1 I saw them 
going and coming, smiling on one another, 
speaking to one another while the orchestra was 
ever playing. But the music seemed to me more 
sweet and remote, and, likewise, the voices of the 
cavaliers and the dancing girls ; their movements 
became uncertain, their outlines vague . . . 

vague . . . vague. At last I saw nothing 

at all, nor heard anything. I had gone to sleep.” 

“ November 27. 

“How Madame Morgane would triumph if 
she knew that I behaved myself to-day as a 
person far from civilized ! What makes light to 
me the memory of my adventure is that she will 


160 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


know nothing of it. Listen to the story, father. 

“The day after to-inorrow, then, Charlotte’s 
marriage takes place. And so my aunt, more 
and more full of business, had sent us, Madeleine, 
Miss Ashton and myself, to go on an errand in 
the Avenue de 1’ Opera. When we left the shop, 
there was no carriage ! 'No doubt the driver had 
misunderstood the orders. I was delighted at 
the mere prospect of returning on foot, but I 
took good care not to show all my satisfaction, 
because of Madeleine’s unhappy mien, who re- 
plied to me in a tone of fright, when I insinuated 
the possibility of walking : 

“ ‘ Eeturn on foot ! It is entirely too far. We 
will take any old hack.’ 

“ I continued my insinuations, but in another 
way. 

“ ‘ Ah ! Madeleine, since you do not wish to 
walk, let us get into an omnibus. It will be 
much more pleasant than a hack ! ’ 

“ ‘ I do not know whether that would please 
mamma,’ Madeleine remarked without enthusi- 
asm. 

“ ‘ Is it not proper to get into an omnibus ? ’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! yes, . . . but . . .’ 

“ ‘ I entreat you, Madeleine, do not look for a 
“ but . . .” Miss Ashton, will you ? ’ 

“Vaguely Miss Ashton made some sign or 
other, and Madeleine resignedly at last said to 
me ; 

“ ‘ Let us get into an omnibus, since that sort 
of vehicle pleases you so much.’ 

“ She herself took the numbers, and then the 
aristocratic Madeleine, like a simple mortal, 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


161 


waited until there were seats for us. Her bear- 
ing was still less charming when she found her- 
self seated beside a stout gentleman, puffing 
after the manner of a sea-dog, and opposite to 
two very smart young men who all at once did 
us the honor, untimely as it was, of their atten- 
tion. 

“ Suddenly to the platform mounted a spare, 
yelloAv, mean-looking woman, with a stout and 
ugly chub-faced boy in her arms, and she re- 
mained standing, swayed by all the motions of 
the omnibus. I thought that she was going to 
be very sick, thus loaded with her child, and I 
whispered in Madeleine’s ear, who was ever dig- 
nified : 

“ ‘ Is she not going to sit down ? ’ 

‘‘ ‘ You see clearly that there is no more room.’ 

“ It was true. Many old ladies in the coach, 
and some gentlemen ; one reading, another buried 
in his reflections, and the two young men ever 
absorbed in their contemplation, which was irri- 
tating Madeleine. I saw it by the deep rose 
color of her cheeks and by the revealing wrinkle 
of her eyebrows. Ho doubt they were very 
tired, since they did not offer their seats to the 
poor woman loaded with her baby ! At that 
very moment a shock came near making her fall. 
It was too much ! I did not reflect as to whether 
I was correct or not, but I arose and called to 
the woman : 

“ ‘ Madam, will you take my seat ? ’ 

I had not finished my phrase when three ex- 
clamations resounded : Madeleine hurriedly said 
to me : 


162 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


“ ‘ Arlette, you cannot be alone on the plat- 
form. Keep quiet.’ 

Miss Ashton exclaimed : 

“ ‘ Oh ! Miss Arlette, don’t budge ! I go . . .’ 

“ And the two handsome young men, as if a 
single man, called : 

“ ‘ Kindly accept my seat, miss.’ 

“ Certainly not, I did not want to accept it. 
And I said to them without hesitation : 

“ ‘ I thank you. But, since you are fatigued, 
I do not wish to oblige you to remain standing 
on my account ! ’ 

“ One of them became almost crimson, the 
other green. The whole omnibus was looking. 
An old lady murmured : 

“ ‘Very good, a good lesson that.’ 

“ Madeleine seemed so suffocated that I felt 
myself seized with great confusion when I per- 
ceived the woman installed beside her in my 
place, while I turned back to take that of Miss 
Ashton, so as to obey my cousin’s peremptory 
order. 

“ The stout gentleman, during our goings and 
comings, grumbled sullenly : 

‘‘ ‘ How restless, then, women ai^e ! One should 
not get into an omnibus when one is not capable 
of remaining there in peace.’ 

“ My. protegee turned around toward him, fu- 
rious : 

“ ‘ It is a pity to see people who are not oblig- 
ing complain when others are so ! ’ 

‘‘ The whole omnibus felt a slight ringing of 
approbation that increased the stout gentleman’s 
bad humor, and he began to dispute with the 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


163 


woman, without listening to the conductor, who 
wanted to make them keep silent. 

I was quite ashamed of being the cause of so 
much trouble. Fortunately we arrived in front 
of Saint-Philippe du Roule. Madeleine jumped 
out of the accursed crusher rather than got down 
from it. I followed her. I guessed clearl}^ from 
her appearance that a sermon was in preparation 
in her brain for my benefit, and I bravely got 
ready to receive it. I have so often been thus 
favored by Madame Morgane that one more 
could not make me very much afraid ! But she 
merely said to me in a tone revealing the state 
of her mind : 

“ ‘ JS'ever again, Arlette, will I go with you in 
an omnibus, since you do not know how to be- 
have yourself in it ! ’ 

“ ‘ I do not know how to behave myself in it ? ’ 
‘‘ ‘ Ko, you do not know how to behave yourself 
in it properly. You indulge yourself theatrically 
in it. You cause disputes.’ 

‘ Then I should have let the woman stand, 
loaded as she was with her child ? ’ 

“ ‘ Yes, as it could not have been otherwise. A 
young girl should never put herself in evidence ! ’ 
“ ‘ I did not think for a moment that I was 
ever going to do so ! ’ I said, angry at being 
scolded because of the accursed proprieties. ‘ Do 
not fear ; now I will not forget that in Paris one 
niust think only of oneself ! ’ 

‘Mn silence we went up our street. I do not 
know what Madeleine’s reflections were, but 
mine were not pleasant. I thought that my aunt 
was going to find me very badly reared, to regret 


164 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


having me in Paris, that Guy would be dissatis- 
fied, and perhaps would not care any longer to 
be my friend, regarding me as a stupid little 
creature, good to send back to Brittany. Indeed 
1 had death in my soul when I reentered the 
parlor, escorted by my two bodyguards, like a 
prisoner between two policemen. My aunt, Guy, 
Charlotte and Pierre were babbling by the fire- 
side. On hearing us, they turned their heads, 
and Guy exclaimed : 

“ ‘ Oh ! My goodness ! What has happened to 
3^011 ? You look so lugubrious ! ’ 

“ Madeleine was generously silent. Then, so 
as not to show myself a coward, I declared : 

“ ‘ It is because I have done something stupid ! ’ 

“ ‘ What was it ? Tell it to us ! ’ all of them 
asked at once, with the mien of people who want 
to be amused. 

“ ‘ Do not assume such an air of enchantment ! 
In two minutes you will think as Madeleine does, 
and you will scold me.’ 

“ I began m}^ story ; but, as I proceeded, they 
laughed so heartily that their laughter graduall}^ 
gained upon me. They were not angry at me, 
and, in the joy of being delivered from my fears, 
I asked Madeleine, throwing myself around her 
neck : 

“‘Madeleine, do not be dissatisfied with me, 
ISTow I will always leave women standing, even 
if they have children in their arms ... as it 
ought to be so ! ’ 

“ As her only answer she embraced me with 
all her heart, and peace w^as restored.” 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


165 


‘‘November 30. 

Charlotte is married ! Charlotte left at once, 
after dinner. And now she is traveling alone 
with her husband. How much confidence she 
must have in him to go away so, without being 
afraid, leaving behind her all her people, and set- 
ting out even in the evening ! AVell, she did not 
at all seem as if frightened. On the contrary ! 

“ What a pity that this day has passed even 
more quickly than the others ! The forenoon 
rolled around at first with giddy rapidity, after 
an affecting scene at the little breakfast, because 
Charlotte remarked that it was her last meal as a 
young girl. Seeing my aunt very much moved, 
1 leaned over to embrace her, but too quickly ; I 
upset my cup of chocolate. That put us all in 
sorts again. Moreover, we did not have time to 
indulge in effusions ; it was necessary to hurry 
so as to be ready for noon. Well, at the ap- 
pointed hour, Charlotte was not so. Pierre was 
uneasy in front of the closed door, asking every 
moment : 

“ ‘ May I enter ? ’ 

“And ever did my aunt pitilessly answer: 

“ Then Pierre resumed his comings and goings, 
and was answering Guy, who exhorted him to be 
calm, with a funny smile under his mustache : 

“ ‘ I would very much like to see you there ! I 
am certain that you will not excel in patience.’ 

“ At last that famous door was opened ; my 
aunt announced : ‘ Pierre, your wife ! ’ And, into 
the parlor, filled with people and with flowers, 
Charlotte entered, like to an apparition in the 


166 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


whiteness of her veil, her satin, her lace, her 
orange blossoms. But I was not able to admire 
her at my ease, for Guy came and said to me : 

“ ‘ Let us leave, it is our turn ; it is time.’ 

“We got into our coupe, which I would have 
recognized by the very delicate faint odor of a 
cigar that was floating there and was mingled 
with the sweet perfume of my bouquet — which 
he had given to me. I found that bouquet so 
pretty that I could not contain myself about it, 
and I embraced it with all my lips, wliile merely 
pretending to scent it. But Guy remai-ks every- 
thing, and he smilingly said to me without mak- 
ing fun of me : 

“ ‘ Why do you embrace your flowers ? ’ 

“ ‘ To thank them for being so beautiful ! I 
would like to plunge my whole face into the 
midst of them, as I indeed wholly slid into the 
poor captain’s baskets of heliotrope when I was a 
very little girl. It was such a jdeasure to me 
that I ceased to take advantage of it only when 
I understood that in this way I was doing injury 
to my dear flowers ! ’ 

“ ‘ Which is quite worthy of you, little queen. 
Let us get out quickly, we are at our destina- 
tion ! ’ 

“ Many members of the family were there al- 
ready, and also officers, friends of Pierre’s. 

“At last, after a few minutes, it was Char- 
lotte’s turn to arrive. She ascended the church 
steps on the arm of an old gentleman bedizened 
with decorations, an uncle of importance. She 
entered the church, all of us following her, like 
a flock ; but a flock worth the trouble of being 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


167 


contemplated, if I am to judge by the number of 
eyes that kept watching us, as we advanced, to 
the music of a triumphal march, toward the 
altar glittering and flowery as a repository. 

“ The ceremony began. At the slightest mo- 
tion on the part of Charlotte, the beadle and my 
aunt hurried to arrange her veil. My aunt’s 
countenance no longer wore its wonted smile, 
but bore a new expression, quite grave, and at 
times she tapped her handkerchief very quickly 
on her eyes. If Charlotte had not continued to 
appear radiant, I would have come to believe 
that marriage is a terrible adventure. The bishop 
who gave the blessing seemed to say that it is 
not always a pleasant thing. Fortunately, since 
I remember how Madame Morgane has taken me 
in on this point, I do not refer any more on this 
question to the opinion of mature or even old 
persons ! I think, with Charlotte, that it is 
charming to have always with you some one who 
adores you, who finds perfect everything you 
say or do — Pierre is so with Charlotte — with 
whom you chat, walk, have music, dance, etc. 

“ It is too bad, and it has left a heavy weight 
on my conscience, but Monseigneur Deronis’ ser- 
mon plunged me into all sorts of very profane 
reflections. And then those flowers, those toi- 
lets, that multitude kept me from feeling clearly 
that I was in a church, and my mind was trot- 
ting, or rather galloping, in I know not what 
land of enchantment. I thought that, when I 
would be married, I would no longer be scolded, 
I could do whatever I wished. Papa, my dear 
papa, would be always with me. We would 


168 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


leave Madame Morgane wherever she saw fit to 
stay, provided it was not in very close neighbor- 
hood to us. And we would be quite happy with 
Yves and Corentin. I already saw a handsome 
young man — after the manner of Guy — coming 
to tell me that he would be delighted to have me 
as his Avife. He was speaking to me. I was go- 
ing through the ceremonies as a matter of form. 
It was charming ! 

“ Some one came and stood in front of me. It 
was not a handsome young man, but indeed the 
beadle, who appeared on the other side of my 
kneeling chair, making a grand salute to me. 

“ I murmured to Guy : 

“ ‘ What does he want me to do ? ’ 

‘ He Avants you to take up the collection un- 
der my escort.’ 

“ My heart began to beat at the idea that I 
Avould have to move around, Avithout being in the 
least aAA^kAvard, under all those knoAving and cu- 
rious looks. Guy, never suspecting my sudden 
anxiety, added Avith an imperceptible smile un- 
der his mustache : 

“ ‘ On your Avay do not look too intently on 
tlie pretty Christian girls assembled in this 
church, other Avise you Avill forget that you are 
collecting . . . and God knoAvs what Avill 

become of your purse and its contents ! ’ 

‘‘ I Avhispered to him in my turn : 

“ ‘ Oh ! Guy, I Avill pay very close attention. 
But hoAv much afraid I am that I Avill do some- 
thing aAvkAvard ! ’ 

“ ‘ Have no fear. Everything Avill go all 
right.’ 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


169 


‘‘ His assurance restored my courage. The 
beadle was waiting for me, discreetly impatient 
at my not moving. I saw Madeleine’s sky-tinted 
dress undulating already, and in my turn I set 
out on my route, my hand in Guy’s. 

‘‘Well, our collection took place with a cor- 
rectness that would have put Madeleine in a 
transport of delight. From under her veil Char- 
lotte smiled at me ; but Pierre gave me his offer- 
ing without changing his air of penetration. 
The attendants were far from wearing the same 
serious mien ; even the ladies did not appear as 
if praying much for the newly married couple. 
Perhaps, after all, they were doing it in their 
hearts, quite interiorly. I recognized several of 
my dancers at the ball. As I went around they 
addressed to me rather discreet salutations, and 
I heard one of them say in an undertone to Guy : 

“ ‘ My compliments, old boy.’ 

“ Compliments for what ? But it was not Guy 
who was getting married. 

“ In the sacristy they began again with more 
pronounced salutations, while marching in with 
the host of my aunt’s and Pierre’s friends, both 
of whom, as well as Charlotte, were brimming 
over with smiles, and Madeleine on her part did 
likewise. Guy, standing near me as I was af- 
fected by the contagion, displayed like generos- 
ity ; and that generosity was even particularly 
manifested in regard to Jeanne d’Esteve, whom 
I like less and less, decidedly, while admiring 
her for her hair — a veritable golden snow — her 
ivory-colored complexion, her ver}^ red lips, her 
at the same time rounded and spare figure, her 


170 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


knowledge of the world, which Madeleine would 
be delighted to see me possess ! At luncheon 
she was very wearisome : she monopolized Guy, 
she had him serve her, she babbled with him and 
smiled at him with her pretty teeth. 

“ At last, fortunately, as gradually the guests 
were paying their respects to my aunt, she 
was indeed obliged to take part in the gen- 
eral movement. We found ourselves again inti- 
mate, when suddenly Charlotte, who had disap- 
peared in a moment, returned ; but she was no 
longer in white ; she had on her traveling cos- 
tume, her hat, even her veil. Nor was Fierre 
any longer in full dress. On seeing them, be- 
hold ! the wise Madeleine suddenly burst out 
sobbing. I looked uneasily at my aunt, and it 
seemed to me that she was quite ready to do like 
Madeleine. 

“ ‘ Madeleine, my little sister, I entreat you, do 
not grieve so,’ Charlotte repeated. 

“ And she embraced Madeleine, she embraced 
my aunt, she embraced me also, recommending 
both of them to me ; Fierre seemed as if he did 
not know what to do with himself in the pres- 
ence of this desolation. It was a scene much 
more affecting than that of the morning, even 
during the sermon ! 

“ In the midst of it all Guy interposed. He 
suspected nothing and came to announce that the 
carriage was in waiting ; it was time to leave so 
as not to miss the train. Fierre’s countenance 
brightened up at this news. He spoke a ‘ Come, 
Charlotte ! ’ that was quite pleasing. 

“ My aunt repeated : ‘ Come, Charlotte ! ’ in a 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


171 


tone of resignation. There was yet a moment of 
bustling, effusions, adieus, tears ; and when that 
moment had passed, Charlotte had left. We 
were all looking at one another, astonished at 
finding ourselves without her, standing face to 
face with one another, with the sensation that 
something was over.” 

“ December 5. 

“ Between ourselves, I had always thought that 
after Charlotte’s marriage I would make the re- 
turn journey to Douarnenez. But no one here 
seems to think of anything of the sort. And 
neither do you, papa, . . . you do not seem 

to expect your ‘ little one.’ Why ? Is it because 
you do not miss her at all ? or rather are you 
treating her as an ingrate, because she is pleased 
in Paris when you are not there ? 

“ Dear father, your Arlette’s heart is entirely 
yours. You know it well, do you not ? Only it 
is to her so delightful and so new to be spoiled 
by others besides you, the captain, or Mademoi- 
selle Catherine, and it is so amusing to lead a life 
quite full of surprises, to learn thus a heap of 
things, noticed on the four corners of the hori- 
zon ! 

“ Since my arrival in Paris I am doing a won- 
derful amount of looking. All these lookings are 
then metamorphosed into ideas which, together, 
pretend to install themselves in my mind, where 
I ask nothing better than to welcome them. 
They precipitate themselves there, press upon 
one another there, some making only a passing 
visit — and those merit no attention — others 
choosing their domicile there — either discreetly 


172 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


or as sovereign mistresses, sure of their impor- 
tance. Of those, father, we will both of us talk, 
when your Arlette will be again nestling at your 
feet, listening to your dear voice. Even when 1 
but think of that moment, my heart leaps with 

joy '■ 

“ Only, when I see you again, I shall also see 
Madame Morgane. H’m ! Il’m ! For the mo- 
ment I am trying to forget her existence as far as 
possible, for, as soon as I think of her, I have the 
impression that a shower of reproaches is going 
to fall on me. 

“ If you were here, father, your child would be 
in a state of perfect bliss. But afar from you, it 
cannot be so, even with your letters. Do you 
not also to some extent regret your little Arlette, 
who adores you ? ” 


“ December 9. 

“ I know now why there is no question of my 
return to Douarnenez. It is for a reason that has 
brought a great shudder of uneasiness into my 
heart. On one occasion, as I was speaking pre- 
cisely of this return, I do not know in what con- 
nection, my aunt asked me : 

“ ‘ Are you already weary of us ? ’ 

“ I answered with a most sincere, ‘ Oh ! no ! ’ 
“ ‘ Then you wish to remain with us longer, to 
spend the winter with us ? ’ 

“ ‘ But papa ! I cannot leave him alone so 
long. Oh ! why is he not here ? ’ 

“ My aunt did not answer all at once. One 
might have said that she was reflecting. At last 
she continued : 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 173 

‘‘‘You had a letter from him this morning. 
Did he call you back ? ’ 

“ ‘ No ; he tells me, on the contrary, that I 
must not be annoyed on his account, for he bears 
our separation very well, being quite taken up 
with the many patients he has to visit.’ 

“ ‘ That’s what he wrote to me. There is at 
present a good deal of malignant fever among the 
lishermen, a sort of epidemic. And so he desires 
that you do not return at once to Douarnenez.’ 

“ I felt that I was becoming quite pale. 

“ ‘ Oh ! aunt, if he should contract that fever ! 
How can he think that I will remain at ease here 
sheltered from that malady to which I know him 
to be exposed ? And that when Madame Mor- 
gane and Blanche are with him ! ’ 

“ ‘ They are at Chateaulin. He no doubt 
made them go there from prudence.’ 

“ I murmured a ‘ My God ! ’ into which I 
threw all my uneasiness ; sobs rose into my 
throat. My aunt noticed this ; she drew me upon 
her knees and began to reassure me most ten- 
derly, giving me so many good reasons to calm 
my anxiety that 1 at last became a little pacified. 
Guy, in his turn, when he came in the evening, 
succeeded in putting a little balm on my anxiety 
by assuring me that the Douarnenez epidemic 
was not very serious, and as he has never de- 
ceived me, I believed him. 

“ What a delightful thing it is thus to have a 
great friend who understands you always, is ever 
ready to listen to you ! Sometimes the fear sud- 
denly seizes me that I am wearying him by bab- 
bling thus with him ! But he quickly requires 


174 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


me to continue, reminding me that, on the even- 
ing of my arrival, I promised that I would take 
him as my confidant and that he has not ceased 
to merit that confidence. Then I start out again 
as best I can. I tell him pell-mell all my ideas 
regarding Paris, and the people whom I see, 
without my being disturbed now when there ap- 
pears in his eyes that flame which at Douarnenez 
made me think that he was jesting with me. 
When I find, moreover, that he looks too much 
as if he thought he was at the theatre while lis- 
tening to me, I am sorry, but not too much so ! 
We dispute a bit, and then we sign the treaty ! 

“ It was fortunate for me ! For it is to him 
that I have recourse when I am embarrassed as 
to what I ought to do, when I am afraid of com- 
mitting one of those deeds of stupidity that act 
on Madeleine’s eyebrows, when she is in despair 
at seeing me profit so little by her lessons on the 
ways of the world. He never scolds me ; and, as 
soon as I turn my eyes toward him with ‘my 
prayerful mien,’ as he says, he comes at once to 
my aid. He merely asks me : ‘ What is the mat- 
ter ? ’ I explain my affair to him, and every- 
thing is fixed up all right. Madeleine’s fine eye- 
brows have no evolution to perform. 

“ Of a certainty, I amuse myself a great deal 
in the world, but the best evenings yet are those 
that from time to time we spend at hoiiie, Guy 
and I giving musid. He loves it as much as I do, 
and he does it excellently, though he treats his 
amateur talent disdainfully. But Madeleine, who 
is aware of her accomplishments, has told me 
that he plays the violin like an artist and that he 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


175 


is a genuine musician. When we are both of us 
at the piano, I singing and he accompanying me, 
the minutes may pass as they will ; I do not think 
of their duration, any more than of Madeleine’s 
existence, who, patient as Penelope herself, is em- 
broidering by the light of the lamp. Not only 
do I rehearse all my Breton songs, but even cer- 
tain others that I have learned since coming here, 
especially the ‘ Silver Ring,’ which Guy and I 
love, the one as much as the other. He does not 
sing, or at least he pretends he sings too poorly 
to gain a hearing. I only half believe him ; he 
said he was a pitiful performer, and when he 
plays it seems as if the piano becomes a living 
person in emotion, sings, rejoices, or weeps and 
even sobs. Then, while I am listening, shutting 
my eyes so that this harmony may remain fixed 
in me, my whole Douarnenez appears to me in 
the little corner of my heart, where lives what I 
love most. And it is delightful, and a little sad 
also, because then, father, I feel our separation 
much more. ” 


“ December 15. 

‘‘ Decidedly I do not love the Masses of Paris, 
or at least that which we attend. It is all very 
fine for me to do my best to keep my eyes al- 
ways on my book or toward the altar, for I do 
not succeed in preventing them from casting 
glances on all sides — Guy pretends that I am go- 
ing to use them up in Paris !---and then I have a 
heap of remorse ! 

“We always attend the eleven o’clock Mass. 
Before his marriage Pierre came regularly to 


176 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


join US at it. Guy comes also. But I have not 
a very clear knowledge of when he arrives, as he 
does not come near us. 

“ I suppose Pierre is offering up lots of prayers 
for his Charlotte. But of what is my cousin 
Guy thinking? 

“ I am afraid that he is not pious at all. My 
aunt had so declared distinctly at the Kergoat 
Pilgrimage. Except that he neither smiles nor 
talks, he carries in church all his parlor air, and, 
like nearly all the gentlemen whom I see at this 
Mass, he has no book. They all seem to be there 
simply to escort the very elegant ladies who 
come, decked out, frizzed, dressed as if to pay 
visits. They behave very correctly, they sit 
down, they stand up when the occasion requires. 
And yet ! 

“ I was thinking again of that this morning, 
on leaving church after Mass, after having made 
a multitude of salutations ; everybody knows 
everybody else at this Mass! We were going 
up the Eue de Courcelles on foot, Guy and I 
away ahead, for we trot along much more 
quickly than my aunt and Madeleine. I was 
buried in my reflections ; he noticed this, and 
said to me : 

“ ‘ How silent you are, little Arlette ! What 
ails you, then ? ’ - 

“Before being able to recall myself, I had al- 
ready exclaimed : 

“ ‘ Guy, why do you come to Mass ? ’ 

“ ‘ Why do I go there ? What ? Is it a good 
Christian girl like you who asks me such a ques- 
tion ? ’ 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


177 


“ ‘ Then, 3^011 do not come merel}^ to join ns ? 
All ! so much the better ! ’ 

“ ‘ Decidedly, little Arlette, you have a sorr}^ 
opinion of my religious feelings. Already at 
Kergoat you showed me this. Do you know 
that I am far from flattered at flnding myself 
so severely judged ? And why ? May I ask 
you ?’ 

“ I have told him all the ideas that were trot- 
ting around in my brain on this subject. He 
listened to me without answering, but very at- 
tentively, showing not the slightest trace of jest- 
ing ; I merely heard him murmur as he bit his 
mustache : 

“ ‘ Who would have imagined so much perspi- 
cacity in a young girl’s brain ? ’ 

“ Then, ever without jesting, I am sure, with 
that smile which I love so much to see on him, 
he concluded out aloud : 

“‘Well, Arlette, since you are persuaded that 
I stand very much in need of being converted, do 
me from time to time the charity of a little prayer, 
and, thanks to you, I will perhaps become a little 
less of a miscreant. Is it asking too much ? ’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! no ! ’ I said so ardently that he started 
to laugh heartily this time. 

“‘Would not one think that he was listening 
to Monica and Augustine ! And so, thanks to 
you, little Arlette, here I am perhaps on the way 
to becoming a saint.’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! Gruy, do not become a saint all at once. 
The saints do not dance, and, when among peo- 
ple, I would rather dance with you than with 
any one else ! ’ 


178 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


“ ‘ Be at ease, you frivolous young girl, for the 
hour of my complete conversion, no doubt, has 
not yet struck.’ 

“ Thereupon we bade adieu to each other. AY e 
had unfortunately reached home. Guy left us 
for the whole afternoon, for he was going to his 
dear concert at the Conservatory.” 

“ December 16 . 

“AYell, we also went to the Conservatory, and 
I spent there one of those afternoons that one 
does not forget ! After breakfast, my aunt hav- 
ing to write to Charlotte, who is still at Flor- 
ence, in all her glory, with her Pierre, offered to 
Madeleine and me to attend that blissful concert 
under Miss Ashton’s very respectable protection. 
And on the stroke of two o’clock we rushed to 
our seats, to Guy’s great astonishment. Made- 
leine bore herself like a love. She made me sit 
down beside him, so, she declared, that I could 
at my ease confide my musical impressions to 
him. And I did not fail to do so. 

“ One thing made me astonished at him at 
first, and that was that in music he followed 
Grieg’s concerto^ wh*en played by the orchestra, 
instead of listening to it only ! It would have 
spoiled my pleasure to think even that those de- 
lightful sounds issued from all those little black 
marks. I said so to him. He laughed a little 
and replied : 

“ ‘ How well you are fitted to have wings, Ar- 
lette!’ 

“ But he had not yet opened his score when 
came the turn of AYagner’s opera ; and I am not 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


179 


astonished at it. The singer had a voice so beau- 
tiful that one could think of nothing else than 
listening to her with all one’s soul. 

“When the orchestra and the singing had 
stopped, there was in the hall a veritable explo- 
sion of enthusiasm ; and it would seem that this 
was a rather rare occurrence at the Conserva- 
tory, which is frequented only by persons who 
know how to admire on the inside. As for me, 
I did not think of applauding, so far was I yet 
from having returned from the exquisite world 
into which that music had transported me. I 
merely murmured, while my heart beat with 
emotion : 

“ ‘ Oh ! Guy, hoAv beautiful it was ! ’ 

“ He answered : ‘ Yes ! ’ and I saw by his eyes 
that he felt as I did. Then, filled with humility, 
I added : 

“ ‘ Why should you ask me to sing, you who 
are accustomed to hear artistes like her ? How I 
see clearly that there is nothing left for me but 
to be silent.’ 

“ But he stopped me all at once : 

“ ‘ Do not speak ill of your singing, Arlette. 
It also has a soul, and that is why I feel on 
hearing it the same joy as in listening to that 
singer.’ 

“ My cheeks became red with pleasure, for Guy 
spoke without the slightest affectation, having no 
intention of paying me a compliment. Then I 
no longer envied the singer. 

“ This afternoon passed a thousand times too 
quickly. When Madeleine said tome: ‘Well, 
Arlette, it is over; are you coming?’ I could 


180 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


not refrain from saying : ‘ Already ! ’ which did 
not half express all the regret I felt. 

“ In the vestibule a multitude of persons were 
going out, were saluting each other, were smiling 
at each other, were lavish in exclamations on the 
excellence of the concert, which I was not the 
only one to find superb. Suddenly I perceived 
Jeanne d’Esteve chattering beside her mother, 
strange to say — and with gentlemen, naturally ! 

I felt a slight shock in my heart at this idea: 

‘ Guy is going to leave you for her ! ^ 

“Just then Madeleine remarked her presence 
out aloud. 

“ And to my great surprise, yet less great than 
my pleasure, Guy replied without ceremony : 

“ ‘ Let us go before she sees us. I am afraid 
of her reflections on to-day’s concert.’ 

“ ‘ Why ? ’ I asked in astonishment. 

“ ‘ She is profane in music . . . and I am 

as much afraid of false criticisms as of discordant 
notes.’ 

“ ‘ If she does not love music, why does she 
come to the Conservatory ? ’ 

“ ‘ Bah ! what will not women do, for effect ? ’ 

“ Guy was joking, most certainly, for otherwise * 
he would not have spoken of the beautiful Jeanne 
with such freedom. But one thing certain is 
that he did not go near her; he remained with 
us. I would have liked very well to return on 
foot by his side, as on the day of our walk to 
Notre Dame ; but with Madeleine, that must not 
be thought of, and I had to be satisfied with 
being put in a carriage by him.” 


LITTLE AKLl^TTE. 


181 


“ December 23. 

‘‘ I must write down every word of it in order 
to believe it ! W e were really angry with each 
other, were Guy and I. And because I wanted 
to put a wise resolve into practice ! And so, now, 
I will be firmly distrustful of good advice and 
wise resolutions. 

“ Madeleine, though very learned, is ever pos- 
sessed of the passion for lecture courses ; and ac- 
cordingly she went to-day to hear a sort of con- 
ference on ‘Woman’s Kole in Our Time.’ She 
brought me along, in accordance with my press- 
ing entreaty, at the same time saying that I 
would get weary of it — which was an out-and-out 
rash judgment. On the contrary, I felt myself 
penetrated with the gravity of our mission, 
purely as women, while listening to what was 
said by the professor, a stout blond with pene- 
trating eyes behind eyeglasses, who evolved an 
incredible abundance of ideas from his brain. 
He made me think of those sleight-of-hand fel- 
lows who make a profusion of flowers, coins, etc., 
emerge from a mere silk handkerchief. In short, 
that astonishing man closed his discourse with a 
very fine phrase exhorting us to develop our 
mind by reading much and seriously. Had I 
thought that that phrase would be the cause of 
my misfortune ! 

“ I came home quite full of good resolutions, 
and as, just before dinner, I found myself alone 
in the little parlor, I spied on the table a brand 
new book — a book by a great writer ! I thought 
at once of the professor’s recommendation and 
said to myself: ‘Now is the moment or never 


182 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


to cultivate my mind ! ’ At once I installed my- 
self near the lamp and opened the book. But 
I had not read half a page, and that far from 
clear, moreover — there was question of a very 
beautiful and very nervous lady who was going 
to revisit a friend, I know not where — when a 
voice made me start up with my nose in the air. 
Guy was in front of me : 

“ ‘ AVhat ! all alone, Arlette ? What are you 
doing there ? ’ 

“ ‘ Only reading ! ’ 

“ ‘ What, then ? ’ 

“ I reached him the volume. lie cast a glance 
on it. But see how his face changed. It became 
quite angry looking, and, instead of handing me 
back the book, he threw it to the other end of 
the room, saying to me in a voice that I never 
heard him use before : 

“ ‘ Who allowed you to touch this romance ? ’ 

“ ‘ JS^o one. It was there on the table. I picked 
it up.’ 

“ In the same tone, almost severe, he con- 
tinued : 

“ ‘ Why do you so pick up books that are not 
yours ? ’ 

“ I was again startled. His whole manner 
puzzled me and made me angry. 

“ ‘ You may rest assured that I would not have 
kept it if I knew it was yours. I am honest ! ’ 

“ ‘ I have no doubt of it. I only say that there 
are limits to curiosity, and that you have passed 
beyond those limits. It is not conscientious thus 
to open books without permission.’ 

“ He spoke to me in a tone so severe that a 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


1S3 


slight fog of tears mounted to my eyes. To be 
scolded when I had done nothing wrong was too 
much ! And scolded by Guy ! And so, very 
angry in my turn, I exclaimed : 

“ ‘ It was not from curiosity that I opened that 
book, even the title of which I did not know 
half an hour ago ; it was to obey Madeleine’s 
professor.’ 

u 4 Professor ? ’ 

‘ Yes. He recommended us to read much in 
order to develop our mind. That is what I was 
going to do, thinking that my aunt’s books were 
serious, naturally. And I did not think that I 
would thereby deserve to be spurned as if by 
Madame Morgane ! ’ 

“Aly voice trembled, and sobs were coming 
quickly, very quickly, to my throat. I turned 
around abruptly to conceal this from Guy, but it 
was too late, and both my hands found them- 
selves imprisoned in his. He was no longer irri- 
tated, but, on the contrary, somewhat uneasy. 

‘‘ ‘ Arlette, have I really hurt you so ? ’ 

“ But I was still put out with him and I pulled 
my hands loose : 

“ ‘ Let me alone. You have been unjust ! Now 
that you have been informed, give me back my 
book.’ 

“‘That is impossible, Arlette; that romance 
was not written for young girls, and ought not 
to be in your hands.’ 

“ I began to understand. 

“ ‘ Because it is not proper, is it not ? Always 
the same story ! Your Paris is decidedly filled 
with things far from proper — plays, books, etc. 


184 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


Never at Douarnenez would I have imagined that 
there were so many of them ! But I regret ex- 
ceedingly that you arrived before I had been able 
to take a peep in your book at what those fa- 
mous things are that are so amusing to mature 
persons ! ’ 

“ ‘ Where did you learn that they amuse 
them ? ’ 

“ ‘ I notice it clearly by their mien. And it is 
exasperating never to be able to understand cer- 
tain of their smiles, their glances and their re- 
flections ! ’ 

“ I was speaking right straight in front of me, 
but with the dull impression that I was saying 
stupid things. Guy was examining me, standing 
in front of the fireplace, his brows knit and twirl- 
ing his mustache. 

“ ‘ Ah ! that’s it ; please tell me what madness 
is seizing you ?’ 

“ ‘ It is not a madness. I am not beside my- 
self ! I wish only to be instructed so that my 
ignorance may no longer make people smile ! ’ 

“ ‘ Are you not also desirous of knowing the 
history of all the crimes that are committed in 
the world, the list of all the maladies, of all the 
miseries that afflict poor humanity ? ’ 

“ ‘ I have no desire for that at all. Why do 
you speak of them to me ? ’ 

“ ‘ Because you seem to thirst with the desire 
of learning truths that are far from enjoyable. 
You and your sisters in curiosity are little" mon- 
sters of ingratitude. One strives to dissemble to 
you the saddest phases of human life, so that the 
world may not seem to you a robbers’ den, and 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


185 


instead of being grateful for this, you have no 
more cherished desire than to render useless the 
good intentions with which one is animated in 
your regard ! ’ 

“ ‘ I do not ask to know everything,’ I re- 
marked, somewhat confused and filled with re- 
morse for my words. 

“ ‘ It is yet fortunate ! ’ 

‘‘ ‘ But I would like to be as well informed as 
the young ladies of Paris. Do you think I do 
not notice that they are all laughing at my sim- 
plicity, that I do not see that Mademoiselle 
d’Esteve is making fun of me from the eminence 
of her knowledge ! ’ 

‘“Well, so much the worse for her and for 
those who resemble her ! I say it to you in all 
sincerity, Arlette, you do not have to envy the 
opinion that we men have of them.’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! Guy, is that opinion bad ? ’ 

“ ‘ It is not at least, I suppose, that with which 
they intend to inspire us, and, I swear to you, it 
is not especially that which we would like people 
to have of our sisters. Kemain yourself, Arlette. 
You would lose too much in changing to resem- 
ble the others.’ 

“ He smiled a little and concluded : 

“ ‘ Do not transform yourself, otherwise your 
father would no longer recognize his little Breton 
flower when he will see her again, and he would 
have a grudge against us on that account.’ 

“ ‘ True, Guy, quite true, you do not desire that 
I become like the young ladies of Paris, like 
Mademoiselle d’Esteve ? ’ 

“ ‘ I have but one desire, which is that you re- 


186 


LITTLE AKLPnTE. 


main as long as possible the little Arlette who 
ran up the dill' paths, who came to us one even- 
ing, from her Brittany, quite frozen, quite curious, 
quite startled, and who indeed condescended to 
allow me to become her great friend.’ 

“ He stopped for a moment. He looked as if 
reflecting, then he said to me with a kindly 
smile : 

“ ‘ Do you not wish now that peace be restored 
between us ? Will you still refuse to let me take 
your hand ? ’ 

“ As my only answer, filled with remorse, I ex- 
tended both my hands to him and I murmured, 
being somewhal afraid of what he might say : 

“ ‘ Guy, I was bad, but I promise you that I 
will not be curious again.’ 

u ‘ Agreed. For your own good, little Arlette, 
I accept the promise.’ 

“ And so the storm was at last dissipated. For- 
tunately.” 


“January 1 , 189 -. 

“ Is it possible, father, that I have been able to 
begin the year afar from you, without repeating 
to you all that I wish in your regard, without 
receiving the kisses which say to your little one 
that you love her as much as she loves you, that 
is to say, with all that is best in her heart ! Oh ! 
Why are you not here ! You near her, and then 
Yves, Corentin, Mademoiselle Catherine, the 
captain, she would have nothing more to wish 
for ! 

“Our separation Avas my first thought this 
morning, and all at once I felt myself frightfully 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


187 


sad ! I saw you alone down there in our home, 
thinking of your Arlette whom you must miss a 
little, although you pitilessly keep her afar from 
you. Then, as if whispering, I took to murmur- 
ing to you the tender feelings with which my 
heart is filled for you, as if you were listening to 
me. And I had such an ardent desire for you to 
feel how close in thought I was to you, that I 
foolishly pictured to myself that that desire was 
going away to you and was good for you to re- 
ceive. And I so often reread your letter, which 
reached me this morning, that its paper is almost 
torn. 

“ All have spoiled me here ! Kot only my 
aunt, Charlotte and Madeleine, but even Gu}^, 
who has sent me the same New Year’s presents 
as to Madeleine, besides flowers and bonbons. I 
thanked him effusively ; but I could not be gay 
as usual. All my thoughts were at Douarnenez. 

“ And then, to see my aunt and Charlotte, who 
returned the day before yesterday, so happy near 
each other, made me too envious ! I was so much 
outside of Paris that I was not surprised when 
Guy said to me, in that very sweet voice which 
he has when speaking a little low : 

‘‘ ‘ Little Arlette, you are in Brittany, are you 
not ?’ 

“ ‘ Yes, oh ! Guy. Why am I not so for good ? 
Since Madame Morgane and Blanche are always 
at Chateaulin, father must find himself very 
lonely. Because of that unfortunate epidemic, 
he would not allow the boys to remain with him 
at Douarnenez, and this New Year’s da}^ will be 
so sad to him ! ’ 


188 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


do you know what must be done? 
Send him a word of reminder ! ’ 

“ ‘ How that ? ’ 

“ ‘ Why, by telegram. I am sure that it will 
give him much pleasure ! ’ 

“ I jumped at this thought, and Guy added : 

“ ‘ Scribble off your message. I will forward 
it immediately after coming out from Mass.’ 

“ ‘ Are you coming there with us ? ’ 

“ He began to laugh. 

“ ‘ On this first day of the year, what does not 
a man do who has a keen sense of the seriousness 
of life ? ’ 

“ In honor of the new year, perhaps also, he 
went himself to forward my telegram. And so 
what a prayer I offered up for him at the Mass 
while he was by my side, at the end of our row ! 
I told him so on leaving the church, for I knew 
not how to thank him for having conceived that 
dispatch idea. His eyes assumed that singular 
expression which I love without being able to 
understand it ; but he answered me in his usual 
jocular tone : 

“ ‘ You are the best little friend, Arlette, that 
one could dream of.’” 


“January 0. 

“ One thing still astonishes me very much since 
I have been here, and that is to see how many 
men there are in Paris who do nothing, that is to 
say, who have the air of having no other occupa- 
tion but paying visits, going to the races, to the 
parks, etc. Never do they seem to work. And 
Guy, unfortunately, appears to me to be one of 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


189 


them. Then I no longer know myself in that 
regard. So often have I heard papa repeat to 
Yves and Corentin that it is a strict duty for a 
man to work, that those who do not perform this 
duty are despicable beings and judged as such by 
all people with a heart ! Certainly papa has set 
Yves and Corentin the example ! He is always 
occupied, so much so that I have scarcely time to 
see him. He knows how to forget himself for 
others, to devote all his time to no matter what 
wretch calls him, without paying any attention to 
Madame Morgane’s scoldings, she ever ready to 
repeat that he ought to choose his patients and 
finding it foolish to attend people who never 
pay. 

“ Is it possible that Guy lives for his pleasure 
solely, that he is of the number of those useless 
creatures whom papa judges so disdainfully ? To 
be reassured, I say to myself that perhaps he has 
occupations that I am not aware of, I an igno- 
rant little girl. I might ask Madeleine so as to 
make my mind easy, but I dare not. She would 
no doubt consider my question ridiculous, and 
answer it with one of those little smiles that 
make me desire to sink into the earth. 

“AYhen anything engages my attention, I do 
not know how to conceal it, especially from Guy. 
This time I would have liked very much if he 
could not read my thoughts so quickly, but he 
did so as is his wont, and now I do not regret 
it! 

“ He dined that day at home, as he was to ac- 
company my aunt to the theatre. Madeleine and 
I remained at home because, be it well under- 


100 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


stood, the play was not one for young girls. My 
aunt had gone to finish dressing ; Madeleine was 
looking in her room for pieces of silk for her 
eternal work ; I was sitting in a corner of the 
room, and, while looking at the fire, I was 
thinking. 

“ Guy, having finished smoking, came to me ; 
he looked at me for a second and then asked : 

“ ‘ What were 3^ou dreaming of with so grave 
a mien, Arlette, when I came in ? ’ 

“ The lamp was behind us, rather far off. I 
scarcely saw Guy’s countenance, only his tall 
figure outlined by his dress coat, in the lapel 
buttonhole of which a bud formed a red spot 
. . . and, without my knowing why, the ques- 

tion that was trotting so hard through my head 
escaped from my lips : 

“ ‘ Guy, when, then, do you work ? ’ 

“ He looked at me in astonishment : 

‘ When do I work ... at what ? ’ 

“ ‘ I mean, when do you attend to business that 
does not serve merely for your pleasure ? ’ 

‘‘ I had not yet finished my sentence when I 
wished to recall it. Fortunately Guy did not 
seem to be dissatisfied. His eyes merely sought 
mine, as if he wanted thus to penetrate into my 
very thought. 

‘ Why do you ask me that question, Arlette ? ’ 
“ ‘ Oh ! Guy, does it annoy you ? I would be 
so very sorry for it ! But I cannot conceal any- 
thing from you.’ 

“ ‘ Because you are a good friend, thoroughly 
sincere and faithful.’ 

‘‘He said that to me ver}^ sweetly, with the 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


191 


same expression in his eyes, and I felt my heart 
warm with pleasure on that account. 

“ Then he continued : 

“‘You have not answered me, Arlette; you 
seem to desire that I work. Why ? ’ 

“ ‘ Because it seemed to me that all men ought 
to do so. I have so often heard papa repeat it to 
my brothers and set them the example ! But 
perhaps it is not in Paris as it is at Douarnenez.’ 

“ Guy’s countenance was more serious than I 
had ever seen it. 

“ ‘ In Paris, as well as at Douarnenez, there 
are men who employ their time usefully for the 
benefit and well-being of others, who do not de- 
vote it all to their . . . distractions. There 

are others also who do the contrary. And you 
think that I belong to the category of these 
latter ^ ’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! Guy, I hope not ! ’ 

“‘You hope? You are severe, child! At 
what would you like me to work, then ? ’ 

“ ‘ I do not know. I am too ignorant to find 
out what useful occupation young men like you 
ought to engage in.’ 

“ ‘ My poor little one, they have as much diffi- 
culty as you in discovering it, rest assured. What 
could I, for example, well be ? I assure you that 
the longer I live, the more days there are on 
which I so ask myself. In the meantime I am 
striving to waste as little of my time as possible. 
I am striving to make my life as intelligent as I 
can. I read, I paint, I follow music. It is a 
Sybarite life, I know well. But, Arlette, one 
must be a little indulgent to those who are not 


192 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


obliged to earn their daily bread. On that ac- 
count they are often worth less than others, and 
it is not absolutely their fault.’ 

“ ‘ Guy, have I caused you annoyance by speak- 
ing to you thus? I entreat you, forgive me. 
My opinion signifies nothing at all. I cannot 
judge like persons of mature years.’ 

“ ‘ And that is why you are a living conscience. 
Forgive you, child? For what? For being 
right in despising the idle ? Indeed, I hope that 
a day will come for me to be no longer ranked 
among them. Then, little Arlette, you will have 
the right to say to yourself that you have 
counted for much in my transformation ! I will 
not be able to forget the advice that has fallen 
from your little girl’s lips.’ 

“ Wasn’t it excellent of him to speak to me in 
this way ? I was so happy thereat that I mur- 
mured : ‘ Thanks, Guy ! ’ with all my heart. 

But I was thinking of so many things that then 
I remained mute, contemplating the fire that I 
did not see, or Guy’s countenance ever very seri- 
ous, almost grave. Nor did he, my great friend, 
speak any more. We were delightfully in that 
silence. 

“Unfortunately, my aunt returned, quite be- 
capuchined, ready to leave, and, on finding us so, 
exclaimed : 

“ ‘ How quiet ! What ! Arlette is not chat- 
ting ? ’ 

“ It was Guy who answered in his customary 
tone, with a tinge of irony : 

“ ‘ We are reflecting, in consequence of a philo- 
sophical conversation that we have just had.’ 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


193 


“ ‘ Philosophical ? Only that ? You will tell 
me about it on the way. Let us leave.’ 

“Guy repeated : 

“ ‘ Let us leave. I am entirely at your orders.’ 

“ He arose. He said adieu to Madeleine, who 
had come in with her mother, and to me last. 
And as he held my hand, he leaned very low and 
kissed it. 

Oh ! Guy, what ceremony ! ’ my aunt re- 
marked in astonishment. 

“ ‘ It is a homage that I am paying to wisdom, 
Louise.’ 

“ And they left. 

“ I was satisfied, satisfied ! But I do not very 
clearly understand why.” 


“January 16. 

“ Oh ! Why is that Jeanne d’Esteve so 
pretty ? Why do we meet her everywhere ? 
Why do my aunt and Madeleine find her so much 
to their taste ? Why does my aunt seem de- 
lighted when Guy is near her, when he chats, or 
dances, or even skates with her as he did yester- 
day ? I, on the contrary, detest seeing them to- 
gether ; I even detest the idea that they meet al- 
most every evening out in company, for Madame 
d’Esteve knows all Paris and is at home only 
when she receives, when she is ill, or again in the 
morning. It is Guy who has told us so. 

“But what does he think of this Jeanne whom 
everybody declares so charming ? O God ! how 
often, then, they so declare ! Sometimes I have 
a wild idea to ask him about it. I have in my 
mind, on my lips, the words that I am going to 


194 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


say, and then, when about to speak, my throat is 
pressed, and it stops my question on its way. 
How that question was still burning my mouth, 
only yesterday, when Guy came to ask me to 
skate with him, after having done so for a long 
time with Jeanne, after having remained with 
her while she was sipping her tea, quite slowly, 
pretending that she found it too hot ! But Guy 
graciously said to me : 

“ ‘ It is our turn now, my little friend. I have 
])erformed all my duties of politeness, and I am 
going to think of my pleasure ! ’ 

‘‘And I forgot the beautiful Jeanne. And we 
set out as if we were flying, quick, quick. But 
in the evening, whilst Madeleine and I were 
babbling as we were preparing for bed, my wise 
cousin exclaimed, all of a sudden, recalling our 
skating time : 

“ ‘ How attractive that Jeanne is, then ! ’ 

“ Immediately the little evil demon that moves 
in me as soon as there is question of her, rose up 
like a devil springing from a box, and I asked 
Madeleine : 

“ ‘ But why do you find Jeanne d’Esteve so at- 
tractive ? ’ 

“ ‘ Because she is so, undoubtedly,’ replied 
Madeleine in a tone that succeeded in routing my 
wisdom. 

“‘Because at the ball she is dancing all the 
time with the same cavalier, if he pleases her, 
and is chatting with him during the entire cotil- 
lion instead of waltzing, letting her eyes shine 
over her fan ? because she manages to be always 
surrounded by gentlemen? because, in the last 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


195 


place, she does a lot of things that you would at 
once find very improper if it was I who did 
them?’ 

“I had spoken in a single breath. I was 
ashamed of my wickedness, and yet I could not 
stop. Madeleine, who was putting up her hair in 
front of the glass, stood there in astonishment : 

“ ‘ Arlette, what has taken hold of you ? What 
has Jeanne done to you that you attack her so ? ’ 

“ ‘ I am not attacking her, I am asking you for 
an explanation, ’ I replied, teasing my poor inno- 
cent pillow. ‘ You are all in adoration before her, 
and I do not understand why, seeing that she 
does not make the same impression on me as on 
you, that is all ! ’ 

“ ‘ Well, I entreat you not to say so, especially 
in Guy’s hearing, for your severity will seem to 
him at least odd,’ rejoined Madeleine in her turn, 
in a wrathy tone, quite rare in her. 

“ I said, my heart beating quickly : 

“ ‘ He also admires her, then ? ’ 

“ ‘ I hope so indeed, and I hope with all my 
heart that he will come to admire her suificientlv 
to ... ’ 

“ ‘ To what ? ’ I exclaimed, seeing Madeleine 
stop short. 

“ ‘ To never allow her to be criticised by malev- 
olent persons.’ 

“Without knowing why, I was certain that 
Madeleine had just finished her sentence at ran- 
dom. But it was so useless to question her in 
order to know her real thought, that I did not 
even try. I only exclaimed, with all the convic- 
tion of my soul : 


196 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


‘‘ ‘ It does not concern Guj whether one criti- 
cises her or not. Ah ! how I would like, then, 
that she would marry an olRcer or no matter 
what warrior who might carry her off very far ! 
And . . . ’ 

“ Probably Madeleine’s patience was exhausted, 
for she interrupted me and, in an angry tone, de- 
clared : 

“‘You do not know what you are saying this 
evening, Arlette. Go to sleep at once ; that will 
be better for you. Good-night ! ’ 

“ She grazed my hair with her lips. I returned 
her kiss to her without a word. She then went 
off to her room in quite a dignified manner. I 
quickly lay down ; having put out my candle, I 
wept all my tears, with my nose on my pillow.” 

“ January 22. 

“ There were people, many people, in the par- 
lor. It was my aunt’s day. Be it well under- 
stood, Jeanne d’Esteve was there. As was her 
wont, she questioned me with that smile which 
makes me anxious to tell her that I am not a 
plaything for her, wishing to know if I had gone 
to another ball, and if I had danced at it with 
Guy. She always speaks to me of him, and then 
her eyes assume a mocking expression that I de- 
test. 

“ He arrived exactly while she was still there, 
at the very moment when Madeleine, lending 
her aid to serving the tea, called me to assist her. 
I pretended not to hear. Guy approached from 
the young ladies’ corner, after having bestowed 
his courtesies on the elderly persons in the gath- 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


197 


ering. He looked at Jeanne, who smiled at him 
while extending her hand to him. I surmised 
that he was going to sit down beside her. I felt 
myself quite small, quite powerless to keep him 
from doing so . . . and so as no longer to 

see them, I heard Madeleine’s call. I served all 
that she wished ; I wandered around the parlor, 
wdierever she sent me ; I bore myself, as much as 
she could wish, like a well-bred young lady. For 
a moment I found myself near them^ when they 
were chatting so attentively that they did not 
notice me. She said to him : 

“ ‘ It seems to me that you are rather neglect- 
ing your doll to-day ? ’ 

“ He repeated : 

“ ‘ My doll ? ’ 

“ ‘ oil ! yes, your Breton doll. And she is go- 
ing to have a grudge against you for it, the devil 
knows how ! And against me still more. Oh ! 
I understand that she amuses you. She is quite 
a strange girl ! There are playthings for little 
children, and there are also for grown persons. 
And for men, are there not ? Are they not, more 
or less, children of a larger growth. That is a 
truth which has long been acknowledged ! ’ 

“Was Guy dissatisfied or not with what she 
said ? A wrinkle showed itself between his two 
eyebrows, and his voice was strange when he 
answered : 

“ ‘ Then you have concluded that my cousin 
Arlette, for I imagine it is of her you are speak- 
ing, is a doll to me ? ” 

“‘What does one know, after all? In any 
case, it must be acknowledged that you take very 


198 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


good care not to spoil her, but to have her keep 
all her moral freshness. It appears that you 
watch over her as would a good father of a fam- 
ily, that you go out walking with her, have taught 
her how" to dance, that you choose her reading 
for her and become indignant when the poor girl 
wishes to dip into a romance the point of her lit- 
tle Breton nose in violation of Breton rules.’ 

‘‘ ‘ Indeed I certainly think so, since I have 
charge of a soul. How well informed you are ! 
May one know by whom ? ’ 

“ ‘ By rumor, most plainly ! Have you, then, 
forgotten the saying : “ Tattling as a rumor ” ? ’ 

“ While saying this she was looking at him 
with a peep from between her eyelids. She 
spoke in a somewhat mocking tone, but she was 
also smiling, and her mockery seemed as if being 
lost in her smile, a smile that moved the lips so 
as to show the teeth very prettily. And it 
seemed to me that those small teeth were biting 
into my heart, giving me the desire to weep. 
Then, so as no longer to see them, I turned 
around. I glided to the other end of the parlor, 
behind the palms, shutting my eyes so as to 
make sure that I would not look at them. 

“ But it was stronger than I, and I could not de- 
cide to be no longer uneasy about them. Father, 
they were still chatting ! Behind her there was 
a tall lighted lamp, and the light was floating 
around her hair in such a way as to make a 
golden mist of it ! Truly, at that moment, I be- 
lieve that I would have given anything to have 
her brightness, her grace, her ease, and also her 
statuesque form, her red ivoi\y -colored complex- 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


199 


ion, her 03^68 saying so many things that I do 
not understand, but which Guy and all men do 
understand, for they keep them near her ; to be, 
especiall}^ able to chat like her, with that wit 
which kept Guy at her side ! 

“ I do not know whether much time elapsed 
from when I observed them thus until I heard 
Madeleine’s voice : 

“ ‘ Arlette, where, then, are you hiding ? Ah ! 
there you are ! How pale you are ! What is it 
ails you ? ’ 

“ Instantly I became purple, and I said very 
quickly : 

“ ‘ Oh ! no, I am not pale.’ 

“ ‘ Hot now ... 3^ou look like a corn- 
poppy. But you were not so a second ago. 
What ailed you ? ’ 

‘“Nothing, indeed nothing! I am amusing 
myself, I am listening, I am looking.’ 

“ Madeleine did not insist. She is not curious 
like me, and she continued quite naturally : 

“ ‘ Mamma asks that you sing something, be- 
cause Madame Harvet has heard a great deal of 
talk about you, and would like to listen to you.’ 

“ Sing ? I had quite a different subject in my 
head ! I was going to answer Madeleine, point 
blank refusing her proposition ; but I stopped. 
If I sang, I would stop their chatting. All at 
once I consented. I sat down at the piano, and 
I began a ballad which Guy always asks of me, 
that of the ‘ Forsaken.’ 

“ A very strange thing then happened to me. 
It seemed to me all of a sudden that it was no 
longer the ‘ Forsaken ’ who was saying the words 


200 


LITTLE AELETTE. 


I was repeating, but I who was crying them in de- 
spair ; that it was I who was all alone, aban- 
doned, I who could not endure that solitude, who 
was sad unto death, who had my throat full of 
sobs. 

“ When I had killed myself there was deep si- 
lence for a second, then a loud noise arose. All 
were applauding, I really think, and they thus 
reawoke me from my bad dream. My eyes were 
quickly turned toward Guy and Jeanne. At 
last, they were no longer chatting I Guy, with 
his back against the wall, was looking at me, at 
me, his doll ! 

“ But she turned her head toward him, and, as 
I was not very far away, I heard her say with 
her faint smile : 

“ ‘ She is truly astonishing. I understand why 
she interests you. What a strange little girl ! 
She seems as if she felt like a woman ! ’ 

“ This time I could not distinguish Guy’s re- 
ply ; but, a few minutes later, as she bade him 
adieu, she added : 

“ ‘ Is it not to-morrow that we go skating ? ’ 

“ And he answered as he bowed : 

“ ‘ Oh ! yes, with very great pleasure.’ 

“ She had gone, at last ! But why had she left 
me the idea that to-morrow they would meet 
again, that they would chat as they had done to- 
day, and that on the day after to-morrow, al- 
ways, it would be the sanie thing ! And I, quite 
weak, could do nothing to prevent that ? Guy 
I merely amuse ! She has said so— I am his doll, 
that is, a little thing that neither loves nor thinks, 
without a heart, Avithout a mind, Avithout a soul, 


LITTLE ARLETTK. 


201 


without anything, which one leaves or takes ac- 
cording to one’s good pleasure. 

“ I would have liked to call out to Guy : ‘ Do 
not abandon me altogether for her ! ’ And yet, 
never would my mouth have been able at that 
moment to pronounce such words. All at once 
I was at the same time afraid and anxious that 
he would read me through as he does so quickly, 
and to delay that moment I chatted with every- 
body but him, whom I shunned. 

“ He was going to leave. More than once had 
I met his eyes interrogating me. I heard his 
voice asking me in a somewhat low tone : 

“ ‘ What ails you, then, Arlette ? ’ 

‘‘ Then some evil demon or other urged me on. 
Without looking at him, I answered with a laugh 
which I still hear : 

‘‘ ‘ Oh ! nothing ! What would you like to ail 
me ? ’ 

“ And I fled to my room. I concealed my 
head in my handkerchief and I wept, wept, wept.” 

“The same evening, 11 o’clock. 

“ Probably I had my eyes still spoiled by my 
tears at the dinner hour, for my aunt was aston- 
ished at my sad mien. I may as well say I told 
her simply that I had a headache. And it was 
true, father, I assure you. But my heart was 
aching much more than my head. When Made- 
leine and I had gone up again to our rooms, I 
sat down at the foot of my bed, with my mind 
full of distracting thoughts. I was ever seeing 
again that Jeanne, so pretty, so amiable with 
Guy, whilst I had been quite dull. And I re- 


202 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


gretted so much not being able to become recon- 
ciled with him ! 

“ Oh ! that Jeanne, who had brought so much 
trouble between us ! 

“ Suddenly I was startled as I heard Madeleine 
ask me : 

“ ‘ Arlette, why do you so upset your hair and 
look so absent-minded ? ’ 

“ ‘ I am reflecting.’ 

‘ You are reflecting ? ’ 

“‘Yes, I am thinking, as much as old folks, 
that life is a lamentable thing ! ’ I remarked, be- 
ing unable any longer to keep my desolation to 
myself. 

“ But instead of answering me in pitying words, 
Madeleine smiled : 

“ ‘ Oh ! Arlette, what misanthropy ! What 
happened to you this afternoon? You are no 
longer the same for quite a while. Guy re- 
marked it as well as I, and asked me why you 
had that gloomy expression.’ 

“As I could not acknowledge the truth to 
Madeleine, I put my headache in evidence. 

“ She was too discreet to insist ; seeing that I 
did not wish to tell her anything, she said ‘Good- 
evening,’ and left. 

“Father, your little one would like indeed to 
And herself again with you at Douarnenez ! 
Why do you not permit her yet to return ? Why 
can she not huddle up against you and ask you 
in a low tone for what reason her heart is as 
heavy as if an enormous stone had suddenly 
fallen into it and remained there, crushing 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


203 


“January 28. 

“ Do not believe, father, what I have said to 
you against life. It is not detestable : on the 
contrary, it is exquisite, and it has moments so 
good that they make it pardon all the others. I 
am reconciled with Guy. He is not angry with 
me, and he assures me that he has never been so. 
It was this evening, at six o’clock, that we signed 
the treaty of peace. At six o’clock only ! through 
my fault, because I had refused to go skating 
Avith Madeleine, so as not to interfere with Jeanne 
and him. 

“ My wise cousin, after having declared to me 
that I was very capricious, had been out with 
my aunt until near dinner hour, since I had said 
that I did not wish to pay visits after the skat- 
ing time. When they had left, not being able 
to remain still with that agitation with which 
my heart and mind were filled, I went to look 
for Miss Ashton, and, directly in front of us, in 
silence, Ave had Avalked into the Avenue du Bois. 
But how lugubrious our walk was ! I was as it 
Avere an old philosopher Avho, having nothing 
more to do Avith the pleasures, joys and happi- 
nesses of the Avorld, Avould have firmly closed his 
doors against them, and Avould, Avith regretful 
eye, have considered them through his keyhole. 
I felt jealous of eA^erybody Avhom we met and 
Avho Avas not lugubrious like the Aveather, like 
the glacial Avinter sky, like my heart, ever so full 
of sorrow ! I Avas jealous of the children Avho 
Avere running around joyously, and I envied 
them ; I envied also the trees and everything 
that did not think. I Avas thinking too much. 


204 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


and especially was I seeing, just as if I had been 
there, Guy and her chatting the same as the 
evening before, as ever. What a comparison he 
must have made between her and me, a sulky 
and fantastic little girl ! 

“ Mght was coming on, and we had to return. 
It was so necessary for me no longer to keep my 
distress to myself alone, that I went to my 
piano and sang, sang everything sad that I had 
in my thoughts, until my voice gave out. Then, 
all of a sudden, as I was standing in front of the 
fire, plunged in my reflections, I heard a brisk 
footstep in the neighboring parlor . . . that 

of Guy. 

“ I did not dare to run to him ; scarcely did I 
risk looking at him, fearing lest he might wear a 
severe expression. But — what a delightful sur- 
prise — he was smiling as he approached, and he 
said to me : 

“ ‘ A veritable little Cinderella ! All alone in 
the chimney corner whilst her big sisters are at 
the ball ! Arlette, why did you not come to 
skate ? ’ 

“ ‘ Because I was sad ! ’ 

“ And, incapable of further concealing my des- 
olation, I exclaimed : 

“ ‘ Oh ! Guy, tell me that you have no grudge 
against me ! ’ 

“ ‘ Have a grudge against you ! for what ? ’ 

“ ‘ For my having shown myself disagreeable to 
you yesterday. But I was suffering, and . . .’ 

“ ‘ Suffering ! Suffering from what, Arlette ? ’ 

“ I remained silent, frightened at what I might 
acknowledge. He insisted : 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


205 


“ ‘ Wh)" do you not answer me ? Have we 
misunderstood each other? Havel, then, hurt 
your feelings in any way, without intending it ? 
Tell me, then, what it is, that I may at once beg 
your pardon for it. Have you forgotten that I 
am your great friend, and that from a friend one 
should conceal nothing ? ’ 

“ He spoke to me with so much kindness, his 
serious eyes penetrating mine, that I no longer 
tried to dissemble the truth from him, and I 
murmured : 

“ ‘ Oh ! Guy, it is too hard to think that I am 
to you onl}^ a Breton doll ! ’ 

“‘A doll?’ 

“He seemed astonished. But, no doubt, he 
suddenly recalled himself, and then exclaimed, 
almost violently : 

“ ‘ Who could have told you such a lie ? ’ 

“ ‘ Ho one has told me. I have heard some one 
say so to you.’ 

“ ‘ What “ someone ” ? Mademoiselle d’Esteve ? ’ 
“ I bowed my head, not being able to articu- 
late a word. 

“ ‘ And you believed that she spoke the truth ? 
Answer, Arlette, I entreat you ! ’ 

“ ‘ Why should I not have believed it ? Com- 
pared with her, I clearly understand that I am 
only an insignificant creature, good to amuse you 
sometimes, that is all. I understand that I have 
exactH, as compared with her, the value of a 
doll, that I must seem to you a baby that is often 
wearisome and stupid. Before having heard it 
said of me, I did not think of it ; but now, I no 
longer deceive myself ! ’ 


206 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


It was stronger than all my resolves to be 
courageous ! In proportion as I spoke, I was the 
more convinced of my unworthiness, and my 
tears suddenly flowed. I felt myself so much 
like a poor trinket worthy of being set aside or 
sent back to Douarnenez ! I quickly picked up 
my handkerchief to conceal my eyes in it, but he 
stopped my hands on the way and enclosed them 
in his own, as on the day when he had scolded 
me about the book. He remained silent for a 
second, looking at me with an expression that I 
would like to see on him always, and Avhich 
penetrated me beneficently to the very depths 
of my soul ; then he said very gently : 

“ ‘ Oh ! the foolish little girl who tortures her- 
self on account of idle stories, who does not no- 
tice what she is to those who surround her ! ’ 

“ Something in his voice, as well as in his 
Avords, suddenly dispelled my grief, and I mur- 
mured passionately : 

‘‘ ‘ Guy, do not admire Mademoiselle d’Esteve 
so much ! ’ 

“ ‘ But hoAv have you learned, child, that I ad- 
mire her ? ’ 

“ ‘ I see it clearly ! And I am not astonished 
at it. She is beautiful! Nevertheless, Made- 
leine thinks that you do not yet admire her suffi- 
iently, for otherwise you Avould do something I 
know not what that would delight her . . . 

and my aunt also ! ’ 

“ Guy’s eyebroAvs came close together, and he 
shrugged his shoulders, his expression changing : 

“ ‘ Well, I am of the firm belief that my sister 
and my niece Avill never be delighted in that 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


207 


manner. Do not imagine, following their ex- 
ample, Arlette, that Mademoiselle d’Esteve is to 
me the ideal of the young lady. You would be 
absolutely mistaken ! ’ 

“ I stopped just in time not to bound with 
pleasure . . . and I asked, with a very slight 

remainder of uneasiness, already on the point of 
taking wing : 

“ ‘ Then, Guy, the real truth is that you do not 
find me too wearisome ? ’ 

“ ‘ Do I look as if I entertained such an idea ? ’ 

“ ‘ jb7o . . . but perhaps you conceal your 

opinion from kindness of soul.’ 

“ He burst out laughing in a hearty manner 
that sent my little remainder of uneasiness to be 
lost in space. 

‘ I would not be capable, I assure you, either 
of so much charity or of so much dissimulation. 
The real truth is that minutes have no duration 
for me when we are babbling together ! ’ 

‘‘‘And . . .’ 

“ ‘ And Avhat ? ’ 

“ I hesitated for a second. Then, so much the 
worse ! I risked : 

‘ And you interest yourself in me more than 
in Jeanne d’Esteve, do you not, since I am your 
cousin ? ’ 

“ ‘ Most clearly so ! To me she is only a 
stranger . . . and you, you are my little 

friend. Are you reassured now, and do you be- 
lieve me ? ’ 

“ Did I believe him ! I asked only that. 

“ Father, I am a little afraid that I am a very 
bad creature, a selfish and heartless child. How, 


208 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


while far from you, can I find myself happy, as I 
do not recall having ever been so ? One might 
say that in my inner me a great flame has been 
kindled. It keeps my heart warm, and by its 
light everything is as beautiful as in a dream ! ” 

****** 

The pages scribbled by Arlette stopped at this 
cry of juvenile eagerness. She let them fall 
again in front of her and remained dreamy, her 
chin resting on her little joined hands, entirely 
carried away by the delightful dream her youth 
afforded her. Darkness was thickening around 
her, the room was now lighted only by the flames 
from the fireplace. She paid no attention to 
this. And, brought back to full reality, she was 
startled when the door opened and Madeleine 
appeared on the threshold. 

“ Goodness ! how dark it is here ! Arlette, are 
you asleep? We have left you alone too long, 
my poor little one ! ” 

Too long ! Was it, then, so long since Madame 
Chausey and Madeleine had gone out ? 

And, looking at the clock, Arlette then saw 
that the whole afternoon had passed away for 
her in that charming resurrection ! 


CHAPTEE IX 


“Xow what are you reading so attentively, 
Louise ? ” asked Guy, as he came into the little 
parlor where his sister, chilly installed at her 
fireplace, was awaiting the hour for going out. 

For the young man she had a smile of wel- 
come, while extending her hand to him : 

“ What am I reading ? A letter.” 

“ Louise, I assure you that my eyes have al- 
ready taught me so.” 

“ A letter from Madame Ilarvet.” 

Guy put on an expressive wry face. That 
Madame Harvet irritated him to a remarkable 
degree, with her outbursts of enthusiasm that 
were too often untimely and her way of consid- 
ering as a reality all that her fertile imagination 
discovered and invented. 

“ What the deuce does that lunatic of a woman 
want of you ? To ask assistance of you for some 
work destined to be a fizzle as soon as she lends 
her aid to it ? ” 

“How severe! Well, you have not hit it at 
all. You must change the course of your sup- 
positions. It is of Arlette that there is question 
in Madame Harvet’s letter.” 

“ Of Arlette ! ” he repeated, abandoning the 
careless attitude that he had assumed, with his 
back against the mantelpiece. “ What can that 
hair-brained woman wish in regard to her ? ” 

“ Something good . . . for she has an ex- 

209 


210 


LITTLE AllLETTE. 


celleiit heart, though her mind may be far from 
sedate.’’ 

“ But what does she want anyway ? Does she 
think of making Arlette her heiress ? ” 

At this Madame Chausey burst out into a 
heart}^ laugh which succeeded in routing Guy. 

“ Guy, you should improvise as a romancer, a 
class of writers that do not cultivate probability. 
You have a fertile imagination. Unfortunately, 
there is no question of Arlette being transformed 
into an heiress. It is in another way that Ma- 
dame Harvet thinks of effecting her happiness. 
She is thinking of getting her married to . . 

“ Of getting Arlette married ! What invention 
is this ? ” 

Madame Chausey’s amiable countenance be- 
came somewhat embrowned. 

“ An invention due to Madame Har vet’s kindly 
heart. She has heard me several times express 
the desire to get Arlette married, and as she 
knows of a party suitable to offer to me for the 
little girl, she sends me a lot of information on 
this subject.” 

“ And you receive it seriously, as if you did 
not know her? Leave the poor little one in 
peace, then ! It is a veritable mania thus to 
want to get everybody married ! ” 

He had spoken with such vivacity that his 
sister looked at him in astonishment. 

“ Ah ! there, Guy, will you explain to me why 
you were startled so, exactly as if there was ques- 
tion of yourself getting married ? That is very 
far from your antipathy to ‘ honest marriage.’ ” 

“ I was not startled,” he said, taking up and 


LITTLE AELETTE. 


211 


laying down impatiently a line ivory statuette. 
“ But I did not expect to see poor little Arlette 
so soon put in the position of entering upon 
housekeeping . . . and under Madame Har- 

vet’s auspices, she being an inveterate match- 
maker who cannot see a bachelor without being 
at once seized with the desire of attacking his 
liberty ! Well, Louise, I cannot understand why 
the mother of a family like you should give a 
moment’s attention to such a plan! Arlette is 
still a child. When her time comes, she will cer- 
tainly meet a marriageable man on her way, she 
is so attractive ! ” 

‘‘Yes, but attractive without dowry, which 
greatly diminishes attractiveness,” interrupted 
Madame Chausey, her eyebrows somewhat con- 
tracted. 

What whim, then, made Guy thus rise in re- 
bellion against a plan of which he had only the 
most elementary knowledge, of whose details he 
was ignorant ? 

“ Disinterested men are rare. We all know it, 
alas ! and Arlette is absolutely penniless. This 
marriage would be to her an unexpected chance. 
And so I have spoken of it to her father, not 
wishing to undertake anything without his con- 
sent, and . . .” 

“ And you have that consent ? ” 

“ Yes, I am going to show you his letter.” 

She arose and began searching among the 
papers locked up in her secretary. Guy was dis- 
traughtly looking at the flame in the fireplace, 
his lips bedarkened, and an unwonted wrinkle 
furrowing his brow. 


212 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


“ How is it, Louise, that until this moment you 
have never spoken a word to me of your matri- 
monial intentions in regard to Arlette ? ” 

“ To be honest with you, because I had no op- 
portunity of doing so. Ah ! here is the letter ! ” 

A few lines only, traced in aii irregular hand, 
as if wearied. And the young man read : 

“Dear Madam, 

“ It is ever so good of you to take so much 
interest in my Arlette’s future. Deep as may be 
the grief which I will feel at losing her now, I 
am assuredly quite ready to forget it in thinking 
only of her happiness alone. In my state of 
health, moreover, her marriage would be to me 
am unexpected favor. I would thus be freed 
from my terrible and constant fears on this sub- 
ject. And so I would not know how to thank 
you too much for deigning to gain all the infor- 
mation in regard to the plan in question . . 

“You see, Guy,” said Madame Chausey, inter- 
rupting the reading which her brother Avas doing 
in an undertone. 

He repeated : “ I see,” while glancing over the 
concluding lines, in which the doctor excused 
himself for the shortness of his letter, caused by 
the state of extreme fatigue brought upon him 
by the typhus epidemic at Douarnenez. 

“ Poor man ! ” Guy murmured. 

In his thoughts was revived the memory of 
his first and melancholy conversation with Yves 
Morgane in the Avorking office darkened by the 
storm. Then, suddenly, the large sad room Avas 


LITTLE AELETTE. 


213 


lit up by the apparition of a gilded white child- 
ish countenance from which laughed sparkling 
eyes and fresh lips. 

Guy slightly moved his head backward as if 
to repel the vision, and he said : 

“For what happy mortal do you intend the 
adorable woman that Arlette will be ? ” 

“I do not know him personally. He is the 
son of a very old lady friend of Madame Harvet’s. 
He owns valuable property in Anjou and attends 
to it himself all the year round. 

“ A sort of civilized agriculturer. What ! ” 

“ A man of good sense who closely supervises 
the tilling of his lands and leads an easy life on 
them, for he has a certain income.” 

“ And he would take a woman who has none ? ” 
Guy sneeringly interrupted. “ He is, then, one- 
eyed, one-armed, or something of that sort ? ” 

“ Not at all. If I am to depend on the eulo- 
gistic information that I have in regard to him, 
Arlette would find in him an excellent husband.” 

Guy bowed. 

“Perfect. So this model worker is disinter- 
ested without being obliged to be so.” 

“ He is a widower,” Madame Chausey ex- 
plained. 

“ And old ! That settles it ! ” 

“ No, he is not old. He is thirty-two, and his 
children are quite young. He adores them, and 
it is on their account especially that he desires 
to marry again. He wishes to meet a sweet and 
simple young girl who does not.dread living con- 
stantly in the country. Indeed, Guy, I do not 
understand you ! From seeing and hearing you 


214 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


ordinarily, one would think that you take a sin- 
cere interest in Arlette, and now that there is 
question of a plan for her future, you think only 
of sneering ! ” 

She stopped, really dissatisfied with her bro til- 
er’s attitude, whose motive she did not catch, 
supposing that he had one. But their looks 
met, and together, their minds relaxed, they 
began to laugh. 

Guy bent toward Madame Chausey and with a 
brotherly kiss caressed her waving hair, as he had 
so much liked to do when he was a little boy. 

“ Louise, do not feel put out at me for this. I 
am persuaded that you are thinking only of Ar- 
lette’s happiness ; but I must say that the idea 
seems to me quite strange to want to make a 
wife and a stepmother of our little friend. What 
does the child herself say of this proposition ? ” 

“ I will not speak to her about it until I re- 
ceive fresh orders. It is useless to set her young 
brain aboiling, if the affair is to stop where it 
is.” 

“ Wisely reasoned ! ” Guy approved. But de- 
spite his tone of ever rather sneering banter, the 
sound of his voice lacked pleasantness. 

He arose, took a few aimless steps in the room, 
with pensive, almost sombre, countenance ; then 
he stopped,'and changing his tone : 

‘‘ I must leave you, Louise ; I have a fencing 
lesson for four o’clock.” 

He did not continue. From the very bottom 
of his thoughts a pitiless voice was reminding 
him of the frivolity of the occupations that filled 
up his hours. Strange to say, he never was more 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


215 


conscious of this than since his conversation Avith 
Arlette on the moral obligation of work. A 
moment ago he had sneered at that unknown 
man who was devoting his whole life to the care 
of his estates ; that man, however, was not a 
unit to be overlooked in the human race, not a 
dilettante clubman, fleeing from every yoke. 

His sister’s voice aroused him : 

‘‘ As you still have some time to spare, listen 
to me, Guy ; we will go out together. I will 
dress at once. Arlette is coming to take me.” 

“ She has gone out already ? ” 

“ Naturally. The more she is in motion, the 
more satisfied she is. She went to escort Made- 
leine to her philosophy course, and, as philosophy 
to her seems rather austere, she will not Avait for 
the lecture. AVe will both of us go to do some 
visiting, and then Ave Avill pick up Madeleine, Avho 
is saturated Avith philosophy. Will you ring for 
Adele to come and dress me ? In a moment I 
Avill be with you.” 

He boAved his head and let Madame Chausey 
disappear in her room. He stopped at the Avin- 
doAV and remained standing, his look lost in the 
pale Av inter sky. AVhy, then, had his sister’s 
words, in regard to Arlette’s very humble posi- 
tion, Avhich made any union difficult for her, so 
keenly shocked him Avho, hoAvever, was so strong 
for his years and had never entertained the idea 
that he could marry a penniless Avoman ? Why, 
then, Avas he so Avearied by the marriage plan 
evolved for his little friend ? 

AYhat did it matter to him, indeed, Avhether 
she got married or not ? He did not pretend, 


216 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


however, that he would like to see her remain 
forever the child that she was in his eyes, because 
thus he found her exquisite. I^o matter whether 
she married some Breton or other, or indeed that 
unknown man coming suddenly from the depths 
of his Anjou, he would in any case lose sight of 
her. A moment, soon or late, must come when 
she would no longer be the delightful and con- 
fiding little friend who was dear to him. That 
was inevitable. Why did he, the skeptic Parisian, 
a man of experience, in love with his liberty, al- 
low himself thus to be disturbed by that pros- 
pect ? 

“ What a foolish being I make with my mus- 
ings ! ” he murmured, stirred up by a mute anger 
against himself. 

And, to escape from his thoughts, he did as 
Arlette would do in like case, he sat down at the 
piano and began playing as his impressions dic- 
tated to him, beginning a feverish and passionate 
gipsy air, of nervous ardor, suddenly interrupted 
by a dreamy song. The notes glided under his 
fingers, but his mind was none the less following 
out the mysterious work of analysis which irri- 
tated him to such an extent that, throwing a 
vibrating harmony into the keyboard, he stopped. 

“ Oh ! Guy, why do you not play on ? More ! ” 
exclaimed a fresh voice. 

Arlette was there, standing in the parlor 
threshold, her face quite rosy from the cold and 
caressed by the fur collar, her shining eyes, with 
velvety reflexes, fixed on Guy. 

“ More ! ” she repeated. “ Eesume that gipsy 
song. It is mine, that which I love most ! ” 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


217 


But he was no longer disposed to play well, 
and shook his head : 

“I was murdering it now. You know that I 
am a capricious man in music. This evening, at 
some other time, I will play it for you.” 

“ Is that a serious promise ? ” 

‘‘ Quite serious.” 

“Yery well, then. Let us chat ... so 
much the more, Guy, as I must ask you your 
opinion on a certain matter.” 

“ 1 am entirely at your orders.” 

Unceremoniously she sat down on the arm of 
a vast armchair, but remained silent, her eyes fixed 
obstinatel}^ on the arabesques in the carpet. 

Well, Arlette?” 

“Well, Guy. But you promise that you will 
not poke fun at me, that you will not repeat a 
single syllable of what I am going to say ? ” 

“ JSTot a single one ! I will be as mute as a 
tomb.” 

“ I would prefer a more pleasant comparison. 
Then ! Guy, does. . . . Do you not think 

that . . . when one asks a young girl if 

. . . she would like to . . . get married, 

. . . it is somewhat with an intention ? ” 

“ Arlette, what do you want to get at ? ” re- 
marked Guy, whose features suffered a slight 
contraction. 

“ Do you not suspect that, for some reason or 
other, my aunt is thinking . . .” 

She stopped. The rose hue on her cheeks had 
suddenly deepened so as to become a superb car- 
nation, and her ungloved little fingers were teas- 
ing the soft nap of the chair arm. Guy was lis- 


218 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


tening attentively ; but, as she was silent, he 
again asked : 

“A¥ell, Arlette, what may Louise bethinking 
about in regard to you ? ” 

From the tips of her lips, making up her mind, 
she quickly flung, confiding and delighted : 

“ She wishes me to get married ! ” 

“ Keally ! ” said the young man, shocked by a 
disagreeable impression, though he expected the 
reply. Really ! And may one know how she 
put "that remarkable idea into your head ? ” 

“ Guy, do not find me too ridiculous ! These 
days, even this morning, she turned the conver- 
sation on this subject, and, in a special manner, 
she asked me whether I could be tempted to en- 
ter upon housekeeping.” 

“ And you answered her that marriage, in your 
estimation, is purgatory on earth, and that you 
would take good care not to try it ? ” 

“Oh! Not at all! I did not answer her in 
that way ! I do not think anything of the 
sort ! ” 

“ Yet, if my memory serves me right, you made 
declarations of that sort to me at Douarnenez, 
even on the Ris road.” 

“ Oh ! at that time I had only Madame Mor- 
gane’s experience ! But you have told me that I 
must not believe in it, and now I have my own 
experience, which has shown me that you were 
right ! ” 

“ Ah ! so it is I who prompted your conversion ? ” 
She bowed her head with a half serious, half 
pleasant air. A joyous flash shone in her vel- 
vety pupils. 


LITTLE ARLI:TTE. 


219 


“ What a fine work I have accomplished in 
that ! ” 

“ You have not accomplished it all alone ! Guy, 
do not be proud ; Charlotte and Pierre have as- 
sisted you very much. I know now that it is a 
charming thing to be married, and I . . 

“And you would be very well satisfied to 
marry again also.” 

Archly she acknowledged, with a purple flame 
on her cheeks : 

“ It seems to me that it would not weary me ! ” 

“ Well, good luck. Mademoiselle Arlette ! Ac- 
cept the first presentable individual who will 
offer you his heart and his hand. Be happy and 
Jiave no disillusion on the charms of the conjugal 
venture.” 

He spoke with such bitterness, under his ap- 
parent, yet somewhat biting, sarcasm, that she 
revolted, quite disconcerted : 

“ Oh ! Guy, how cranky you are to-day ! ” 

“ Because I do not sing with you a lively 
hymn on the happiness of Hymenaea? What 
would you ? Unfortunately, I am no longer only 
seventeen ! ” 

“ Because, without any reason, you assume a 
quite disagreeable tone in answering me ! ” 

She spoke so truly, in regard to his tone, that 
he remained silent for a moment. Why was he 
in such an ugly mood, irritated at himself, at 
mankind, even at the mean winter weather, agi- 
tated by an evil desire to cast a shadow on the 
smiling and juvenile confidence of that child 
whose ease exasperated him ? 

“ I make all my excuses to you,” he resumed 


220 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


slowly, I have spoken to you in a surly 
tone.” 

“ Yery surly, as to a child that one scolds. I 
will soon be eighteen. I am a young lady.” 

“Yes, you are right. You are no longer a 
child.” 

He repeated these words, at the same time 
taking her in with his glance. She had remained 
seated on the arm of the chair, her small, well- 
clad feet scarcely touching the floor with their 
pointed toes, her nimble bust closely outlined by 
the cloth bodice that showed her harmonious 
lines. In the aureola of her gainsborough her 
face stood out radiantly with all the brightness 
of youth in bloom. But at that moment her 
warmly enpurpled lips were as serious as her 
look, the smiling brightness of which was soft- 
ened by a pensive expression. 

Ho, she was no longer a child, nor even a little 
girl. She was truly becoming a young lady. 
Why until that moment had he not been struck 
by this ? By what aberration had he persisted in 
ever seeing in her only the playful little creature 
who was running up the steep rocky hillside ? 
Yet he knew well that she was more, he who 
had better than any one penetrated into the in- 
nermost recesses of her moral being. Behind 
that forehead veiled by wild little hairs palpi- 
tated a very keen intellect, an enthusiastic 
thought, spontaneously open to every beauty. 
That young body, slender and fine, enclosed a 
soul of fire, tender, passionate, adorably limpid 
and frank. And then, some day or other, an un- 
known man would come; to himself he would 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


221 


draw that thoroughly new soul and thought, he 
would make them his precious own, and he would 
have the right to tease those who, having had 
that treasure within their reach, had not, like 
veritable madmen, deigned to seize it ! 

“ Guy, why are you not saying anything to 
me ? Are you angry, out and out ? ” 

Without being conscious of it, she extended 
her hand toward him, with a little more than 
faint movement. He started, snatched brusquely 
from his dreaming. And, without being rude 
this time, he repeated : 

“ Angry ? Why should I be angry ? ” 

“ Because I told you that you were cranky ! ” 
In spite of himself, he smiled, so little as he 
would have wished, amused at the contrast be- 
tween the familiar expression that she used and 
the seriousness of his anxious countenance. 

“ Certainly not, I am not angry. If any one 
had the right to be so, it would rather be you, 
for, I must confess — humbly — I have fully de- 
served, without wishing it, the reproach that you 
have made to me. I am very much confused at 
it. Do you not forgive me, Arlette ? ” 

As her only answer she extended both her 
hands to him. For a second he held them in his, 
prompted by a faint desire to carry them to his 
lips, to kiss them leisurely, those little hands over 
which no one yet but herself had any rights. 
Yet he let them fall again without his mouth 
having touched them. 

Contented, she exclaimed : 

“Then we are reconciled! You will not say 
any more harsh things to me when I confide my 


222 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


suppositions to you ... on the subject of 
my aunt’s ideas ? You will not scold me again ? ” 

“ I will not scold you again, if it be the case 
that I have ever scolded you. I wish with all 
my heart that your hopes be fully realized. Are 
you satisfied with me ? ” 

“ Yery well satisfied, my great friend ! ” 

These few words fell very sweet from her lips, 
despite the drolly solemn tone with which she 
purposely uttered them ; and at the sound of that 
young voice a secret fibre twitched in Guy’s 
heart. 

At that very moment Madame Chausey en- 
tered. 

“ Guy, here I am ready. What ! Arlette, you 
are here and you did not notify me ? ” 

“ Aunt, I was chatting with Guy while wait- 
ing for you ! ” 

“You were giving him your confidences? 
And, in exchange, he gave you his ? ” Madame 
Chausey asked, in a tone of pleasantry. But her 
glance sought that of her brother, who answered 
her mute question with a negative sign. 

Arlette, on her part, replied, throwing back 
her head : 

“ Guy never gives me confidences. He is like 
a Turk : he regards woman as an inferior being 
in whom he must not confide, and he proves it. 
That’s all.” 

“ That’s all ! Guy is indeed a miscreant. It is 
a long time since I told him so. By-the-bye, let 
us go quickly. Madeleine will be waiting for 
us.” 

Guy went down with his sister and Arlette. 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


223 


He put them in the carriage, but he did not go 
in with them. After having clasped the young 
girl’s little hand, confidingly given up to his, he 
went away toward his club, saying to himself 
that man is indeed the most stupid of all animals. 


CHAPTEK X. 


A FEW days later, as breakfast was ended, 
Madame Chausey said suddenly, while poking 
her little stove : 

“ I am sometimes very desirous of going to see 
how the hothouse palms in the Acclimatation 
are coming along. Will you accompany me, 
Arlette ? ’’ 

“With the greatest pleasure, aunt, if I do not 
interfere with you ! ” she remarked, all at once 
taken with the proposition. She liked very 
much to go out with Madame Chausey, who 
was always very affectionate to her. 

“ Then it is understood. Since Madeleine has 
her singing lesson to-day, both of us will go alone 
to admire the palms.” 

And things having been thus arranged with- 
out awakening the slightest suspicion in Arlette, 
she and her aunt were on their way, an hour 
later, toward the Jardin d’ Acclimatation. 

It being yet very early in the afternoon, the 
hothouse was almost deserted. Madame Chau- 
sey took it in with a rapid glance. A few soli- 
tary strollers were stepping the finely graveled 
walks ; others occupied some of the benches. 
Among the latter Arlette’s keen eyes at the first 
glance descried a well-known countenance. 

“ Oh ! aunt, Madame Harvet ! What weari- 
224 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


225 


ness ! Both of us were so much at ease to- 
gether ! ” 

Madame Chausey smothered this awkward re- 
mark under a rapid ‘‘ Hush ! ” and Arlette, dis- 
turbed in her pleasure by this meeting, followed 
her without any enthusiasm. 

Madame Harvet, having perceived them, ad- 
vanced with blooming mien. 

“ Dear madam, what a happy chance ! How 
delighted I am to see you ! And Mademoiselle 
Arlette also ! Good-day, my little darling. Dear 
madam, allow me to present to you . . .” 

She turned around, but no one was near her. 
Seated on the bench which she had just left 
there was a young man, very stout and very tall, 
who was looking at the gravel with an absorbed 
air. 

Madame Chausey asked herself uneasily : 

“ Can that man there be the object in ques- 
tion ? He is a veritable colossus ! And what a 
country -looking air he has ! ” 

As if she had guessed at this mute question, 
Madame Harvet, ever jubilant, hurried toward 
the very robust stranger. 

“ Monsieur Amelot, will you come, so that I 
may present you to Madame Chausey and her 
niece. Mademoiselle Arlette Morgane ? ” 

The stout man arose at once, so quickly that 
his cane rolled on the gravel, and, in the effort 
he made to pick it up again, he stumbled against 
a chair near him. Presently, with an instinctive 
movement, Arlette had already raised the cane 
that had rolled to her feet, so difficult did it 
seem to her for that voluminous personage to be 


226 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


able to stoop to the ground to recover his prop- 
erty. 

“ Oh ! miss, I humbl}^ beg your pardon,” he 
stammered in a tone at the same time confused 
and vexed. And he seized his cane. 

“Monsieur Amelot,” presented Madame Har- 
vet, whom the scene in no way disconcerted ; 
“ the son of one of my good lady friends, an in- 
habitant of Anjou.” 

This time Monsieur Amelot saluted without 
embarrassment, though awkwardly. He had a 
corroded look, a colored skin, reddish blond hair 
that hung down over a low forehead, and an air 
of extreme self-suthciency that was oddly allied 
with a rustic aspect. 

“ May we sit down there for a moment ? ” 
Madame Harvet proposed. “ It is delightful in 
that hothouse! You recognized it. Monsieur 
Amelot, did you not ? ” 

“Oh! no, madam. Never, during my jour- 
neys to Paris, have I had time to lose in coming 
here ! ” 

Arlette cast a glance of astonishment toward 
the giant — as in a whisper she had nicknamed 
him — for he had just answered in a brusque tone 
that did not belong to refined politeness. Ma- 
dame Chausey intervened, wishing to play her 
maternal part conscientiously : 

“ Do you come to Paris often, sir ? ” 

“ As seldom as I can, madam. I am out-and- 
out displeased with it. Its air is unhealthy. One 
feels ill in it ! At every street corner one runs 
the risk of being crushed, even by lean beasts. 
People eat badly, the wine is adulterated there. 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


227 


Oh ! the deuce take it, no, I do not like Paris 
. . . especially when I am there, as at pres- 

ent, with ni}^ children ! And so I scarcely ever 
come to it, except for the agricultural show, or 
when I am forced. This time I needed ploughs, 
and I have found magnificent ones. There are 
new models that are astonishing ! Industry is 
really making marvelous progress ! ” 

Madame Chausey gave a vague sign of acqui- 
escence. The progress of industry, as regards 
ploughs, chilled her all the way through, and 
that common rustic seemed to her quite displeas- 
ing. 

“ Ah ! there are the children ! ” Madame Har- 
vet exclaimed at that moment. Those two little 
ones had nothing in their heads but getting up 
on a camel ; and to keep them quiet their nurse 
was walking them up and down in front of the 
parrots ! 

And, taking advantage of Monsieur Amelot’s 
turning his head toward his progeny, she whis- 
pered, ever delighted, to Madame Chausey : 

‘‘ He is a superb man, is he not ? ” 

Yes, he has a fine figure,” evasively remarked 
Madame Chausey, whose mind was made up. 

“ And his children are as remarkable as he is. 
Look at them ! ” 

Yes, certainly, they were worth the trouble of 
being looked at. They were extraordinarily 
stout and fat, their cheeks scarlet; the boy, like 
a little simpleton in a goldbeater’s skin with his 
long overcoat falling almost to his heels; the 
little girl, dressed in a bright blue gown which 
made her short person look still more voluminous. 


228 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


And to herself Madame Chausey in distraint 
murmured : 

“ But they are real monsters ! One might ex- 
hibit them at a fair, as phenomena of stoutness ! ” 

They were at the same time phenomena of 
savagery, for when Madame Harvet undertook 
to approach them so as to present them to Ma- 
dame Chausey, the boy took to uttering piercing 
cries, and the little girl to kicking out her feet 
in space. The father, however, was contemplat- 
ing them with a peaceful and complaisant eye. 

“ They do not look puny, do they, madam ? 
and they know how to make use of their lungs 
and their members ! Come, keep still, my lambs. 
Obey your dear father.” 

But their dear father, no doubt, did not know 
the secret of having his authority respected on 
every occasion, for the stout Felix continued his 
howling, and the little girl her vigorous kicking, 
while lisping in a groanful tone : 

“ I want to go on the camel ! on the camel at 
once ! ” 

Seeing which, Madame Chausey made up her 
mind to have nothing more to do with them. 
Arlette was curiously examining them. The 
Douarnenez children were not, by long odds, as 
wild to her as those two young products of 
Anjou. 

“ What superb children, are they not, miss ? ” 
again repeated Madame Harvet, who did not 
seem to suspect the impression produced by her 
proteges. 

“They seem to enjoy splendid health,” said 
Arlette, with enthusiasm. “ But can one never 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


229 


approach them without being so disagreeable to 
them ? ” 

With a kindly smile Monsieur Amelot ex- 
plained in a sententious tone : 

“ They are always so when a stranger speaks 
to them. It is because they are not yet familiar- 
ized with the pitiless yoke of civilization. It is a 
})rinciple with me that children, like the grass in 
the meadows, must be let grow at full liberty, so 
as to give them solid temperaments. Mine, up 
to the age of six, will be restrained in noth- 
ing ! ” 

“ And then ? ” asked Madame Chausey, who, 
with her customary good humor, took a pleasant 
view of the incident. That stout man, preten- 
tious and stupid, who would not have her niece, 
amused her very much. 

“ Then, madam, as at about the age of six rea- 
son comes to them . . .” 

“ I thought that the age of reason was seven ? ” 
remarked Arlette, mischievously. 

But Monsieur Amelot did not hear, or thought 
it unworthy of him to take up this frivolous re-, 
mark, and he continued, impertubable : 

“ At about six reason comes to them . . . 

and then begins the parents’ real part, a part so 
serious that it frightens me and which I acknowl- 
edge myself far from worthy to perform alone ! ” 

An imperceptible silence answered this declar- 
ation made with solemnity, and Madame Chau- 
sey, to change the conversation, asked, putting 
herself in keeping : 

“ And you are right in praising yourself, mon- 
sieur, for* that method of education ? As I am 


230 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


destined to be a grandmother at a time more or 
less near, it gives me pleasure to collect the opin- 
ions of competent persons on the subject.” 

Arlette cast a glance of surprise at her aunt 
and another, far from flattering, at the two phe- 
nomena that were sullenly scolding in unison to 
get the “ dear father ” to bring them to see the 
camel. But the “dear father” hardly thought 
of such a thing. Flattered by Madame Chau- 
sey’s question, he answered very eagerly : 

“ Madam, this education is perfect, for it allows 
children’s natures to develop freely.” 

“ In good as well as in evil ? And this ex- 
treme liberty does not make them rather undis- 
ciplined ? ” 

“ Madam, when my children exceed certain 
bounds, I am satisfied with warning them of it 
by administering a severe rebuke to them.” 

“ Oh ! sir, you do not mean to say that tliese 
poor little ones are sometimes whipped ? ” Arlette 
interrupted, seized with compassion for the two 
phenomena. 

In a dignified way Monsieur Amelot declared : 

“ I do not whip them, miss, I correct them. I 
attend at the birth in them of the feeling of 
duty, and by the single means which they can 
yet understand. For, to sum up, children are 
only little animals.” 

“Monsieur Amelot, you are astonishing! as- 
tonishing ! ” remarked Madame Harvet, laughing 
to split her sides. 

Nothing robbed her of her equanimity, and 
she did not seem to have the least idea of the im- 
pression produced by her candidate. 


LtTTLE ARLETTE. 


23l 


Ail ! How original are those men who live 
Outside of cities ! ” 

Modestly Monsieur Anielot replied : 

“ I do what I can, madam. But I would like' 
to have taken better advantage of the admirable 
teachings contained in Kousseau’s ‘ Emile,’ one of 
my favorite books.” 

“You read a great deal, sir ? ” asked Madame 
Chausey, in surprise. 

“ Ho, not much, for I like only serious reading, 
and I despise romances, which are all only a col- 
lection of follies. My greatest pleasure is to read 
our newspaper, the Anjou Progress. It is ad- 
mirably well informed on all the news of the 
country and filled with excellent advice on the 
subject of agriculture. Last year, for example, 
when fodder . . 

Hone of them ever knew what Monsieur Ame- 
lot was going to say on fodder, for a violent 
quarrel had just broken out between the two 
phenomena ; Felix was madly pulling a lock of 
Pauline’s hair, and she, Avith both feet and hands, 
Avas striving to get herself free. Monsieur Ame- 
lot left the unfortunate maid to extricate herself 
as best she could from the roAv between the tAvo 
combatants, and, as Arlette arose Avith an in- 
stinctive movement to separate them, he stopped 
her Avith a condescending smile : 

“ Do not disturb yourself, miss ; they have dis- 
putes like that very often. I do not oppose them. 
Quarrels form character. I interfere only on 
great occasions, Avhen their maid no longer really 
knoAvs Avhat to do Avith them. Besides, I aa^ouM 
not have time to restore peace betAveen them on 


232 


LITTLE AELETTE. 


every occasion, for I spend the greater part of 
the day in overseeing my farms ! ” 

His voice became so pompous when he uttered 
these words: “my farms,” that involuntarily 
Madame Chausey and Arlette exchanged mean- 
ing glances, while Monsieur Amelot concluded 
in the same tone : 

“ My property is one of the most extensive in 
the department. If I had desired, I could 
have been named deputy at the last elections, 
since . . . ” 

And he indulged in a self-satisfied swagger : 

“ Since I am an authority in the country. But 
I confess I did not feel that I had the courage to 
accept the feverish life of men of politics. I will 
never belong but to my children and to the wo- 
man who will deign to accept the task of a 
mother toward them ! ” 

This time Madame Chausey’s eyebrows 
frowned slightly at this untimely allusion, and 
she cast an uneasy glance toward her niece. But 
Arlette had heard nothing. She was looking at- 
tentively into the green depth of a walk along 
Avhich a tall and slender man was advancing. 
Then an exclamation of joy escaped from 
her : 

“ Oh ! aunt, I am not mistaken. There comes 
Guy ! It is Gu}^ ! ” 

In truth it was indeed Guy who was coming, 
with curious eyes. He exchanged a slight sign 
of understanding with his sister, while bowing to 
Madame Harvet, and catching the drift of the 
words that Arlette addressed to him in an under- 
tone : 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


233 


‘‘ You are going to see, Guy, what a funny 
gentleman is with Madame Ilarvet.” 

The latter eagerly prepared to bring about 
new introductions ; but even before it had been 
possible for the men to exchange a single word, a 
furious voice arose behind the group, apostrophis- 
ing Amelot’s scion’s maid : 

“ See there, girl, you cannot, then, pay atten- 
tion to your brats ! But look at your boy, for 
all sakes ! Ah ! the cur ! ” 

All turned around. While the maid was try- 
ing to distract the wailing Pauline, who was ever 
bent on wanting to get on the camel, her brother 
found nothing better to distract him than to 
pluck all the flowers that could be found within 
his reach and to scatter them on the gravel of 
the walks. In his hand he still held a superb 
flowered branch. The exasperated guard snatched 
it from him, and immediately clamors arose so 
deafening that from every corner of the hot- 
house promenaders appeared. 

“The administration will make you pay for 
such destruction, ” repeated the ever-furious 
guard. “ When one has such rompers of chil- 
dren, one should watch over them, by thunder ! ” 
Very red. Monsieur Amelot scolded in his turn : 
“ Try to be polite, in the first place. And you, 
be quiet at once, you cursed scamp! Do you 
hear what your dear father is saying to you 
. . . do you hear ? ” 

If the little fellow heard, he did not seem to 
pay much attention. His howling resounded, so 
much the more as he felt the paternal thunders 
ready to fall on his head. 


234 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


“Ah! 3^ou will not keep quiet? Well, you 
are going to cry for something ! ” 

And, without a shadow of ceremony, he 
grabbed the urchin, and administered to him a 
brief, but vigorous correcting before any one had 
had time to interfere. 

“ Sir ! oh I sir, let him be ! ” entreated Arlette, 
roused to pity by young Felix’s cries, to which 
were now added those of his sister. 

“ Do not disturb yourself, miss. I have accus- 
tomed him to this. He knows that he ought to 
be silent when his dear father orders him to be 
so. Otherwise he is punished. It is all over, 
now. Go, sir.” 

And, quite out of breath, he set the culprit at 
liberty, whilst he himself fell into the power of 
the guard, the representative of justice. 

“ But, Louise, that man is simply an idiot ! 
Let us get away. You must be edified, ” Guy 
whispered in Madame Chausey’s ear. 

A wild desire to laugh took possession of him, 
seeing the grotesqueness of the scene : Monsieur 
Amelot struggling with his interlocutor’s claims ; 
Arlette trying to console the stout Felix, who 
was looking with moist and sad eye at the tear 
stains on his cherry cravat, whilst the tenacious 
Pauline began over again to claim the camel. 

“ Suppose we bring these doves at last to see 
the camel ? ” Madame Harvet smilingly pro- 
posed. 

But the amount of patience that Madame 
Chausey was able to dispose of was exhausted, 
and the old lady’s unknowingness, on this occa- 
sion, was beginning to pall on her. And so, 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


235 


without heeding the hint about the camel, she 
said : 

“ Dear madam, you will excuse us if we leave 
you . . . but I have something to do in 

Paris, and I am very much afraid that I will 
now be late in keeping my engagement.” 

“ What ! you want to leave ? It is not possi- 
ble ! Monsieur Amelot has gone to explain . . . 
wait till he returns. He would be in despair if 
he could not take leave of you ! Look, there he 
comes ! ” 

The good lady might have expended very much 
more eloquence without any result. Madame 
Chausey was resolute. In spite of herself, then, 
she had to receive the adieus of aunt and niece, 
without mentioning those of Gruy, who seemed in 
as laughing a mood as the pretender was other- 
wise when saluting Madame Chausey and Ar- 
lette, still quite red and furious from the scene 
with the winter garden guard. 

“Well, Arlette, on the whole and in all con- 
science, what do you think of the dear father ? ” 
Guy asked, when they were outside the hothouse. 

And lie put the question so quizzically that Ar- 
lette’s long restrained wild laugh broke loose, 
joyous, pearly, deafening, infecting Madame 
Chausey and Guy. 

“ The ‘ dear father ’ is a ridiculous man and 
abominably brutal ! ” 

“Abominably? Nothing if not that! H’m, 
what severity ! Then tell me, you would not 
like a husband of that sort ? ” 

“ A husband like him ? Oh 1 Why do you ask 
me that ? Is it because . . .” 


236 


LITTLY ARLETTE. 


“ Oh ! no, Guy is jesting,” Madame Chausey 
hastily interposed. “ Do not fear, darling. I as- 
sure you that not one of us intends ever letting 
you marry a person as ridiculous as him.” 

And Arlette did not know that on that day 
she had been the heroine of an interview. 


CHAPTEK XI. 


XoR did she learn any more about it the fol- 
lowing days ; any more than she knew that Ma- 
dame Harvet’s protege had judged her a creature 
of luxury, incapable of performing in his house 
the part that he intended for her, that of a 
liousekeeper and, at the same time, a bogy 
toward his two phenomena. 

Moreover, she did not even dream any more of 
that unknown man, thrown in her way by chance, 
she believed. A single thought now occupied 
her wholly. Indeed, on the very next day after 
the interview in the winter garden, Madame 
Chausey received a letter from Mademoiselle 
Malouzec, informing her that the doctor, who 
had overworked himself during the epidemic, had 
suffered so serious a crisis of his heart trouble 
that the outcome was to be dreaded and that Ar- 
lette’s immediate return seemed necessary. In 
every way her presence would do good to her fa- 
ther, who acknowledged at that moment that he 
had suffered much from the separation exacted 
by him. Mademoiselle Catherine concluded by 
entreating Madame Chausey to prepare Arlette 
for that sudden return, adding that she herself 
would write to her to tell her that, called to 
Paris by business, she would bring her back to 
Douarnenez. 

Then, two days later, there came a dispatch 
237 


238 


LITTLE AELETTE. 


from Mademoiselle Catherine. The doctor’s con- 
dition remained very serious, he might be carried 
off in a crisis, and the old maid was coming in 
haste to bring Arlette. 

The poor little one was deeply affected by this 
sudden recall, despite all the precautions with 
which Madame Chausey had surrounded it ; she 
had not even had the courage to reveal to her 
her father’s true condition. And so, at the mere 
idea of seeing him again, Arlette showed a joy 
that upset Sladame Chausey’s compassionate 
heart, yet, odd as it may seem, from the moment 
she learned that she was about to take her de- 
parture, her whole laughing animation had sub- 
sided. An impression of anguish preyed on her 
every time the idea of such an early departure, 
perhaps without return, came back to her. Thus 
her happy life in those surroundings in which 
she had been so affectionately received was 
ended ! And were ended also those delightful 
musical evenings’ with Guy, their long chats, their 
walks ! 

And, moreover, a sudden anxiety was piercing 
her. Mademoiselle Malouzec had just arrived. 
She had consented, as she had but one night to 
spend in Paris, to go to Madame Chausey’s, and 
passionately did Arlette question her about her 
father, astonished, at once uneasy at the reticence 
that the old maid observed in her answers, but 
especially at the serious expression on her coun- 
tenance. 

“ Mademoiselle Catherine, tell us more of fa- 
ther. I do not, so to say, know any more of him 
now. His letters are scarcely notes ! ” 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


239 


Mademoiselle Malouzec hesitated, seeking how 
to lighten the blow that she was going to inflict 
on the child. 

‘‘ He has been very much engaged all this time, 
my little girl . . . and, moreover . . . 

he is suffering.” 

“ Suffering ? Why do you tell me that in such 
a tone ? ” 

“ But, Arlette, I am telling it to you in my 
ordinary tone. I cannot declare to you gleefully 
that your father is ill ! ” 

She stood erect, with enlarged pupils : 

“ He is ill ! since when ? ” 

“ For about two weeks.” 

“ And no one has notifled me ? Oh ! And 
people have let me be joyous, amuse myself, 
laugh ! ” 

Her voice broke, while her eyes, full of re- 
proach, ran toward Madame Chausey and Made- 
leine, who were listening in silence, filled with 
pity. 

“ My darling, we have told you nothing,” Ma- 
dame Chausey remarked with effort, ‘‘ because, 
unfortunately, you could do nothing to comfort 
your father. It was useless to torment you.” 

She shook her head : 

“ I would have preferred to be tormented. At 
least, my torment would have brought me closer 
to him. But, Mademoiselle Catherine, what has 
been the matter with him ? O God ! he has not 
contracted that malady ? ” 

“ISTo, it is excessive fatigue that has exhausted 
him.” 

“ But he is getting better now ? ” 


240 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


An unconscious supplication was trembling so 
ardently in her voice that Mademoiselle Cather- 
ine did not dare to make her suiter more. 

“ He was a little better when I left him.” 

“ A little, only ! Who is with him ? ” 

“ Madame Morgane.” 

“ Blanche also ? ” 

“ Blanche returned from Chateaulin with her 
mother.” 

“ And I, his little one, am far away ! I am not 
taking care of him ! I remain in Paris as one in- 
different, when he is asking for me, perhaps ! 
And if it had not been necessary for you to come 
to Paris, you would not have called me back ! ” 

She stopped short. An involuntary sign of 
protest had escaped from Mademoiselle Cather- 
ine, and a sudden, blinding flash passed through 
Arlette’s mind. 

“You have come to take me! Your business 
in Paris was only an excuse I Then, he must be 
very ill. For you will conceal nothing more 
from me, will you ? He is not ...” 

She did not finish, but halted, having become 
as pale as white wax. Mademoiselle Catherine 
drew her tenderly to her : 

“ My little girl, I am concealing nothing from 
you. Do not be so foolish. In two days you 
will see for yourself that I have told you the 
truth, and you will be able to care for your father 
as much as you desire, to enjoy your meeting him 
again, as he himself is so happy in advance to see 
you do.” 

Arlette in silence bowed her head. Freed 
from the horrible fear that had for a second 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


241 


passed through her thoughts, a sort of expansion 
took place in her, as if she had escaped from an 
imminent danger. But quiet did not return to 
her young heart, though she listened, God knows 
with what a supreme desire to be convinced ! to 
Madame Chausey’s and Madeleine’s comforting- 
words. In the bottom of her soul she did not 
believe them. For fifteen days past had they not 
concealed the truth from her ! 

And Guy, her great friend, had done the same. 
How bad it was in him not to have mentioned 
it to her ! 

And so, when he came in the evening, when he 
was near her, isolated from the others, she could 
not restrain an exclamation of reproach, while 
palpitating all over : 

Oh ! Guy, why did you not tell me that my 
father was ill, since you knew it ? ” 

“ Because I dreaded seeing you at once tor- 
mented in an excessive degree, as you are at this 
moment,” he said, in a tone of affectionate scold- 
ing. ‘‘ Happily, Arlette, one may be ill, very ill 
indeed, and then recover.” 

She ardently plunged her look into Guy’s to 
see whether he was sincere. 

‘‘You think indeed what you say? You are 
sure that my father will get well ? You promise 
me that ? ” 

“ My very dear little soul, no one in the world 
could make you such a promise . . . but I 

hope so as much as I wish it.” 

“ You hope so only ! ” 

She murmured these words, and two big tears 
glistened on her little fagged face. 


242 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


“ Arlette, I entreat you, do not weep ! ” Guy 
implored in an entirely changed voice. ‘‘ Do not 
weep, I cannot bear your tears. Oh ! to see you 
suffer and not be able to do anything for you, 
my poor dear little child ! ” 

“ How sad life is ! ” she remarked, feebly. “ I 
would like to be already at Douarnenez, and at 
the same time I am so very sorry to leave ! ” 

“ You will return. It is ‘ au re voir ’ only that 
we will bid you to-morrow.” 

“Yes, perhaps some day or other I will return. 
I will, no doubt, be an old person then, for I will 
not again leave father ; I would be too much 
afraid that he would become ill again while we 
were separated. Oh ! to wait still almost two 
days before finding myself once more with him ! 
How long it is, O God ! ” 

A sort of odd feeling of jealousy arose in 
Guy’s heart at seeing her thus dominated by the 
exclusive thought of her father. 

“ Arlette, will you not regret us a little, us who 
will regret you so much ? ” 

“ Will I regret you ! Oh ! every time that I 
think of you ! But as for you, Guy, do not for- 
get me too soon, I entreat you.” 

He took her in with a strange look. 

“ Forget you ! Would that be possible for me ? 
Ho one resembles you nor will take in my 
thoughts the place of my dear little friend. Ah ! 
I will think of you, child, much more, perhaps, 
than either you or I could imagine ! ” 

A radiant flash for a second illuminated Ar- 
lette’s moist eyes. Yet she asked again, in her 
delightfully childish manner : 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


243 


“ And it is not merely to console me that you 
tell me such good things ? ” 

“ Ah ! it is in all sincerity, I promise you ! ” 

And, certainly, he could promise. Never 
would he forget the charming little creature who, 
for nearly three months, had just been mingled 
with his life, and who had become dear to him to 
an extent that almost frightened him. Still 
much more than on the evening of her arrival, 
when he had caught her by surprise in tears, he 
felt for her an absolute devotion, a desire to bring 
a little light on her desolate young countenance. 
And he would have liked to remain yet a long 
while thus, near her, separated from the rest, who 
were chatting at the other extremity of the 
parlor. 

The wish was quite useless ; Madame Chausey, 
at that very moment, closed the evening by ris- 
ing to accompany Mademoiselle Catherine to her 
apartment and called Arlette. The child bounded 
on hearing her. This voice broke the charm 
which, at Guy’s words, had for an instant made 
her forget her anguish, and the feeling of dire 
reality brutally returned to her. 

The morrow, her last day in Paris, to her 
seemed to pass like a dream. The hours fled 
rapidly in the hurry of the last preparations, the 
last visits. Like to dream visions that are effaced, 
she saw fly away one by one all the sights famil- 
iar to her eyes for the past three months. And 
now, the moment for leaving for good all that 
smiling past had just struck. Standing on tlie 
threshold of her room, Arlette took it in with 
a supreme look of friendship, so as to carry off* 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


2U 

its image in its most minute details. But some 
one called her. Quick, it was time to leave. 
Quite low she said : 

‘‘ Adieu, my dear little room ! ’’ 

And she left ! The baggage had already been 
loaded ; hastily she got into the carriage, then 
silently, while her friends were chatting around 
her, her look darkened by a flood of tears, she 
contemplated those streets of Paris to which she 
w^s truly attached and which, just as on the 
evening of her arrival, stretched out in the 
shadow of the winter night, starred by the yel- 
low glimmer of the lamps. 

“ The station already ! 0 God ! ” she mur- 

mured, “ it is the end ! ” 

But all at once, with a furtive motion, she sup- 
pressed her tears, reproaching herself for them at 
the mere thought of her father. On the platform 
reigned all the bustle of departure. Was Guy 
there as he had promised ? Her eyes wandered 
over the shadows that were moving quite black 
on the lighted floor of the station. They did not 
wander long. Quickly did she recognize the tall 
and slender form of her friend who was coming 
to her, carrying a bouquet of large violets with 
penetrating perfume. 

“ That they may speak to you of ... us 
during the journey,” he said, offering them to 
her. 

She bowed her head with a feeble thanks, all 
trembling from emotion. O God ! how she 
would have liked to spend the last minutes all 
alone with him who until the end showed him- 
self to her the most tender, the most attentive of 


LITTLE AllLETTE. 


245 


friends ! How she would need still to hear his 
words so affectionate, to accept more coura- 
geously the sadness of the adieu and the anxiety 
that was pressing her in regard to her father ! 
An irresistible desire! All, on the contrary, 
were around her, her aunt, Charlotte, Madeleine 
and even Pierre, accompanying her as far as the 
coach in which Mademoiselle Catherine, having 
already got in, was arranging her baggage. 

“ Come, Arlette, get in, get in quickly. The 
time is up 1 ” she called. 

The child shivered, and burning tears rolled 
down her cheeks while she was receiving the 
kisses of her aunt and her cousins. She stopped 
in front of Guy. To him, her great friend, she 
had wished to bid adieu last. All the others she 
could reconcile herself to leaving. But him ! 
Something in her was being rent in the presence 
of their separation. 

“ Adieu, Guy,” she murmured ; “ and thanks ! ” 

Her voice was stifled. 

“Hot adieu; au revoir, dear little Arlette. If 
you do not return to us, I will go to seek you. 
Au revoir . . . dear.” 

But this last word was spoken so low that she 
did not hear it. He bowed on her little hands, 
and he pressed his lips so closely against them, 
that she felt their warmth through her gloves. 

“ To the carriage, gentlemen, they are off.” 

She went in ; the train shook. For the last 
time she met Guy’s eyes full of that expression 
which made her heart beat. Hear him Madame 
Chausey and her daughters made to her signs of 
adieu, from second to second farther off. Domi- 


246 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


nating the group, still stood out Guy's tall 
shadow. But the shadow also was being effaced, 
becoming ever smaller in the white clearness of 
the electric lights . . . and then she saw 

nothing more. The train ran into the darkness. 

****** 

The night, then an interminable forenoon had 
passed. Each new station marked a closer ap- 
proach to Douarnenez, and, through the window, 
Arlette saw unfolded the Breton landscapes, 
formerly as familiar to her view as the pictur- 
esque costumes which now almost astonished 
her, so unaccustomed was she to them. But she 
experienced no joy on finding again her Brittany 
that she loved so much ; a single thought com- 
pletely absorbed her, even to anguish, her fath- 
er’s illness, the gravity of which she gradually 
guessed at through Mademoiselle Catherine’s 
answers. 

Yet, carried away by an irresistible desire to 
be reassured, she anxiously asked : 

“ Do you think that papa will be able to come 
to the station to meet us ? ” 

Mademoiselle Catherine held back a too ex- 
pressive exclamation : 

“ I do not think so, my little child. He is too 
weak to go out.” 

Arlette did not insist. Beside Mademoiselle 
Catherine she now felt herself somewhat out of 
place — as she had been on her first evening in 
Baris, up to the moment when Guy had come to 
her. And then a childish fear seized her at the 
idea that she was going to meet again Madame 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


247 


Morgane and Blanche. The life of which she 
had a dull remembrance was, then, going to 
begin over again. It would be again necessary 
for her, no doubt, to battle in her own defence, 
to hear malevolent, bitter, provoking words. 

“ Douarnenez ! Douarnenez ! ” announced the 
voice of an invisible employee. 

In spite of Mademoiselle Malouzec’s words, in 
spite of her own conviction, Arlette cast an eager 
glance on the platform. There, a few months 
earlier, she had separated from her father. Oh ! 
would that he were there to receive her ! But 
he was not waiting for her there. 

Neither Madame Morgane, nor even Blanche, 
had come to meet her. A single friendly counte- 
nance was smiling on her, quite blooming with 
pleasure at her appearance, that of the captain, 
whose small eyes were shining more than ever 
from his tanned face. 

“Arlette, is it indeed you?” he said, as he 
opened the door. “ I was beginning to think that 
all those Parisians would never let you come 
back to us ! Wait till I help you to get out ! ” 

He offered his arm to her and, lifting her like 
a baby, in a fatherly way he imprinted a sonor- 
ous kiss on each of her cheeks pale from fatigue 
and emotion. 

“ Ah ! my dear little child, let me look at you 
so as to make quite sure that it is you ! What a 
beautiful girl you have become ! Oh ! how long 
the time has been without you, little queen! 
Fortunately, I often had news of you. Your 
father was so good as to read to me passages 
from your letters.” 


248 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


“ Captain, how is father ? ’’ 

Monsieur Malouzec’s smiling countenance at 
once darkened. But he caught a passing sign 
from his sister, and answered simply : 

“ Always much the same, my little girl ; you 
are going to find him changed, very much 
changed. Very good care must be taken not 
to excite him. He is very weak, and the doctor 
recommends much quietness around him.” 

“ It is Madame Morgan e who is taking care 
of him ? ” 

“ H’m, yes, she is taking care of him. But he 
prefers to take care of himself alone.” 

“ How I understand ! ” thought Arlette, 
whose heart was beating with heavy blows in 
her breast. But she did not articulate anything 
like this and only hastily answered the eager 
questions put to her by the good man, regarding 
her return journey, Paris, the Chausey family, 
not suspecting that he was interrogating her 
thus because he was afraid of her questions 
about the doctor’s condition. But she returned 
to it right quickly, insatiable for those details 
that were breaking her heart. 

‘‘ Ah ! little queen, he has borne himself like a 
hero during these two months of epidemic ! If 
he has not won the cross, there will be reason to 
despair of all justice. Douarnenez was full of 
patients. On the port side they were falling 
like flies. And he busied himself with all, at all 
hours of the day and night. To-day it is he 
who is laid up.” 

The captain’s coarse voice had become hoarse ; 
he turned his head to conceal from Arlette the 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


249 


sudden change on his rude countenance, and he 
did not see the poor wounded bird’s eyes that 
she raised toward him. 

Mademoiselle Malouzec, who had remained be- 
hind to see about the baggage, now rejoined 
them, and hastily they directed their steps to- 
ward the Morgane house. The pale February 
twilight was already falling in the grey streets 
in which resounded very sonorously an incessant 
noise of wooden shoes on the pavement ; and 
Arlette was gradually advancing, taken again 
with her Breton country, enveloped by the 
strong sea breeze that impressed on her lips 
its healthy caress, and reawakened in her the 
somewhat forgotten impressions, suddenly throw- 
ing into a sort of distant background the great 
Paris that she had left. On their way they met 
familiar countenances. The women made ex- 
clamations, on seeing Arlette, and saluted her 
with a smile, with a word of welcome ; small 
boys lisped her name, and the sailors who were 
moving around in the narrow little streets, of a 
rolling appearance, took off their hats to her, 
some even stopping to inquire about the doctor’s 
health. 

In the misty sky now rose more distinctly the 
Ploare belfry. Then Yves Morgane’s house aj)- 
peared. At last ! Shuddering, Arlette passed 
the gate. At the ringing of the door bell, a tall 
woman appeared on the threshold of the vesti- 
bule, Madame Morgane ; behind her was de- 
tached Blanche’s stout figure. 

“ Ah ! it is you, Arlette ? Well, it is none too 
soon ! ” remarked Madame Morgane, imprinting 


250 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


a cold kiss on her stepdaughter’s forehead. “ I 
hope you have had a good time to yourself ! 
And while we were here nursing the sick ! ” 

“ Had I known it, I would have returned long 
since. Why did you not write to me about it ? 
Everybody has concealed the truth from me.” 

“ And you do not regret it very much, in real- 
ity,” she grumbled. “ It is more amusing to go 
to a ball, to the theatre, to the shops, than to 
take care of a patient ! ” 

Arlette’s eyes were flaming with indignation. 
But she was so dominated by the desire to em- 
brace her father that she did not resent the 
harsh words that attacked her from the first 
minute of her return. After having exchanged 
a hurried kiss with Blanche, she hastily asked : 

“ Where is father ? In his oflice ? ” 

“In his office! Ah! Yes, indeed! In his 
bedroom, which he cannot leave. Go up, he 
is waiting for you, my daughter, and he has left 
word to let you go in alone so that you give 
yourself up at your ease to your effusions with 
him. Come, hurr3^” 

“ Go, child,” said Mademoiselle Malouzec, who 
had been listening to the colloquy with prodi- 
gious efforts of patience against interfering ; for 
she knew that her words would serve only to 
make Madame Morgan e more bitter. 

“ Go quickly, my darling,” she repeated. “ And, 
especially, be very calm so as not to agitate your 
father . . . will 3^011 not, little one ? ” 

She leaned down and planted a tender kiss 
on the child’s agitated face, whose emotion she 
guessed at. Haltingly Arlette went up the 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


251 


stairs leading to the doctor’s room. She opened 
the door and, with a voice almost broken, she 
sweetly said : 

“ Father, it is I ! ” 

Then wildly she ran to him and let herself 
drop on her knees so as the better to rest her 
head on the dear breast, to receive kisses like 
those which she gave all palpitating with tender- 
ness, to hear the voice unheard for months mur- 
mur to her : 

“My little all, my dearly beloved, my all. 
. . . Look at me, Arlette, so that I may see 

again the eyes of my child. At last ! ” 

She raised her head, and, in time, she stopped 
an exclamation. She had well been warned that 
her father had changed, but they had not told 
her enough. Oh ! that hair quite white ! That 
pale and hollowed face, that air of nameless fa- 
tigue ! And then that shortened breath that was 
moving his chest ! 

Summoning up all her courage, she smothered 
the sobs that mounted to her throat, remember- 
ing that it was necessary at any cost to keep vio- 
lent emotions from her father. He kept her 
clasped against him, broken as he was by the 
poignant joy that he felt on seeing her again. 

“ My little all,” he again repeated very low, 
“ my only good.” 

With despairing passion, she murmured : 

“ Father, I adore you ! Oh ! Why did you so 
long leave me afar from you ? ” 

“ Because it was necessary, my dearly beloved. 
I did not want to risk seeing you fall sick.” 

“ And during that time you exhausted yourself 


252 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


for others. If I had been near you, I would 
have kept you from thus giving all your strength, 
and to-day you would not be ill yourself ! ” 

“ I am going to be better soon, my Arlette,” 
he remarked, gently, Avith a strange smile that 
was lost in the twilight shadow. I Avill not suf- 
fer much longer.” 

Scarcely did she hear his words, such posses- 
sion did fear take of her, as the forerunner of an 
inevitable misfortune, whilst she greedily scanned 
her father’s ravaged countenance. With tor- 
turing anguish she tried to persuade herself that 
he would not take long to recover ; but, like a 
knell, a thought was budding in her heart : 

“ He is very ill. Can he ever become Avhat he 
was of old ? ” 

And with an irresistible feeling of sorrow she 
murmured : 

“ Oh ! father, Avhy did I go away ? Why did 
I leave you ? ” 

“Hever regret having gone. You understand, 
my dearly beloved ? Kegret nothing. I desired 
that it be so . . . and all is well . . . 

all will be well by the grace of the God to whom 
you pray with so much faith, and to whom I 
have become reconciled.” 

He stopped for a moment ; then, Avith a faint 
smile, ceasing to caress the child’s hair, he said : 

“We are concerning ourselves only Avith me, 
and yet I have a very great desire to hear my 
little girl speak to me of her journey, of those 
Avho received and spoiled her, beginning with her 
Cousin Guy, her great friend. Is it not true, dar- 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


253 


She felt a slight shudder at the mention of 
Guy’s name, and in her memory he arose sud- 
denly, his look fixed on her with the expression 
which she loved so much. 

“ Oh ! yes, father, he was a true friend to me.” 

She stopped. The door opened before the 
heavy form of Blanche, who declared : 

“ Mamma sends word to you, Arlette, to come 
and look after your baggage. She asks, father, 
whether you need anything.” 

“ I need only to listen to the stories of my lit- 
tle traveler and to keep her by my side, to be 
quite certain that she has really returned,” he 
said, with his melancholy smile. “ Go quickly, 
Arlette, do what your mother desires, and come 
back to me.” 

Oh ! yes, let her come back quickly ! For 
weeks and weeks past had he not been deprived 
of her ? And now, like one famished, he could 
not be satiated with contemplating her in all her 
young splendor, with meeting her eyes full of 
tenderness, with receiving the caress of her voice. 

In obedience to him, she went up to her room, 
cold and gloomy under the dying light of that 
declining day, where nothing showed that her 
presence was expected — save the fastidious order 
which reigned there. And she had a fugitive 
vision of her room in Paris such as she had seen 
it on the evening of her arrival, softly lighted by 
the rosy shimmer of the lamp, scenting distinctly 
of violets. 

• Oh ! the violets ! Those which Guy had given 
to her the evening before were dead now, all 
withered. And he, her friend, Avas far from her. 


254 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


SO far that it suddenly seemed to her that never 
again could they meet. Then a deep sense of 
isolation beat down upon her, shaking her with 
restrained sobs, whilst, her hands clasped in an 
appealing posture, she murmured : 

“ Oh ! Guy, do not abandon me ! He is so ill, 
and I am so unhappy ! ” 


CHAPTEE XII. 


Guy would have been very much astonished 
if any one had told him a few weeks earlier that 
little Arlette Morgane’s departure would leave 
in his life such a void as that which he felt. But 
at first, irritated against himself on account of 
this unexpected impression, he had pretended to 
deny its existence. After a few days, however, 
he had indeed to acknowledge that his daily vis- 
its to his sister to him seemed robbed of their 
charm now that his arrival there was no longer 
welcomed by a smile and a look the memory of 
which had become a sort of haunting to him. 

Why, then, had she thus taken possession of 
him, the skeptical and over-sated clubman, heed- 
less, ever careful to escape the lightest yoke ? 
What had she done to leave in him that irresisti- 
ble desire to hear her spoken of ? Why from 
afar did she hold him thus, filling his soul with 
a mysterious and emotional tenderness for her, 
with a desire to protect her, at that moment es- 
pecially when he knew her to be sad and uneasy ? 
Had she, then, intoxicated him by the mere per- 
fume of her fresh youth ? Xever, moreover, 
would he have imagined that he could await with 
almost painful anxiety the news that Madame 
Chausey and her daughters received from her, 
with that fear of learning that the dreaded blow 
had stricken down her father. 

255 


256 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


And a time came when it was more than a 
week since she had written, not even answering 
the letters sent to her by Madame Chausey, who 
was very uneasy at her silence. Guy, glancing 
at the calendar lying on his desk, counted the 
days. Twelve had elapsed without his knowing 
anything more of her. What was happening? 
Was she sulfering in her turn? Or rather had 
Madame Morgane thought it well to break olf 
her stepdaughter’s correspondence with the fam- 
ily that she had at Paris ? Indeed Guy no longer 
knew what to imagine. 

Perhaps that very day, at last, Madame Chau- 
sey had received a letter. Three o’clock ! There 
was yet a slight chance of finding his sister at 
home. 

But when he reached the threshold of her 
house and asked whether she was receiving, he 
learned that she was at the Ice Palace with 
Madeleine, and had left word that she would be 
found there if he came. 

At the Ice Palace ! What pleasant afternoons 
he had spent there with Arlette! and, on enter- 
ing it to seek his sister, there suddenly came 
back vividly to his memory the image of the 
laughing child, so pretty, planted on her skates, 
her fine form outlined by the dark winter cos- 
tume. The decorations had remained the same ; 
the same elegant couples were gliding on the ice 
Avith its bluish reflections, but Guy did not look 
at them ; he preferred to see again in his thoughts 
little Arlette’s eyes and delighted smile when he 
used to draw her along on the ice, and she so 
light that he did not even feel the touch of her 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


257 


slight body. What a joy in living then escaped 
from her whole young being ! 

“ There ! Pazanne . . . you are not skat- 

ing ? ” 

“ No, not to-day.” 

Carelessly he clasped the friendly hand 
stretched toward him. 

“You have come as a spectator? Well, you 
will not get weary. There is over there a bevy 
of pretty women, beginning with Mademoiselle 
d’Esteve. AVhat ! Are you no longer on the 
list of her adorers ? Pazanne, my old boy, you 
are becoming inconstant.” 

He shrugged his shoulders and asked : 

“ Have you seen my sister ? ” 

“ Madame Chausey is down there near Made- 
moiselle d’Esteve, in a group of relatives, and 
she is waiting for the young folks to end an evo- 
lution.” 

Guy spoke a hurried thanks ; then, manoeuver- 
ing among the spectators, he joined his sister. 
She had many around her, and he had to perform 
many acts of politeness before he could put to 
her the question that was besetting him : 

“ Have you any news from Douarnenez ? ” 

“ No, none yet. It is incredible ! Arlette 
cannot have forgotten us. I am very much 
afraid that her father is very ill.” 

“ Whose father ? ” Madame d’Esteve asked, in 
a tone of levity. 

“ The father of my young niece, Arlette Mor- 
gane.” 

“ Oh ! indeed, he is ill ! What ails him ? ” 

“ A heart trouble, very serious.” 


258 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


“ Indeed ? What a pity ! That little Arlette 
was adorable. And so pleasant ! How the days 
follow one another and are so unlike to us poor 
mortals ! ” 

And with this remark Madame d’Esteve re- 
sumed babbling with those around her, whilst 
Guy was taking leave, mutely irritated at those 
frivolous triflings, but yet like so many others, to 
which he had listened without any impatience ; 
but to-day he found them hateful. What obscure 
change, then, was taking place in him, bringing 
into life the disdain, which had become almost 
contempt, that he had for his life of ease, con- 
demned one evening with so much unconscious 
severity by a candid little girl ? 

“ What ! you are going already ? Eeally ? ” 

He turned his head. It was Jeanne d’Esteve, 
the beautiful heiress whom his sister wished to 
see him marry. 

“ You are really going ? ” 

“ Yes, I cannot remain to-day.” 

Slowly she said, in an almost caressing voice : 

“ Even if I entreated you to do it ? ” 

“ You will be very generous, if you do not ask 
it of me, so as to save me the regret of not being 
able to oblige you.” 

She bit her lips, which became even much 
more intensely red. 

“ A very clever answer you have made, and one 
worthy of the most courteous of men ! But, be- 
tween ourselves, you know that you are making 
yourself far from amiable ! ” 

“ You are ever so much too good to take the 
trouble to so remark.” 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


259 


“ Much more than you deserve.’’ 

“ That is true.” 

She came a little closer to him, and, with a 
strange smile, bantering and irritating, she con- 
tinued, her dark eyes seeking those of Guy : 

“ Monsieur de Pazanne, you have had the ap- 
pearance of a soul in pain for some time past. 
Now, you ought to know the country of souls in 
pain.” 

“ It is Paris . . . and properly so ! ” 

“ Not at all ! It is Brittany. There you 
ought to live. You should look up young Ar- 
lette, who has to me all the appearance of seem- 
ing to be wanting to you ! That is understood. 
Children always leave a void when they go 
away ! ” 

In his turn he looked at her straight in the 
eyes, and, having become bantering on his part, 
he said carelessly : 

‘‘ I do not know why you thus hold on to mak- 
ing a baby of Arlette. She had all the reason 
that one is justified in asking of a very young 
girl steeped in delightful ignorance.” 

‘‘ And made thus so as to attract an over-sated 
man ? ” 

“ I imagine that indeed it might be thus,” he re- 
marked, fully master of himself. 

“You imagine? Well, as for me, I am sure 
that ...” 

“ What ? ” 

She finished boldly, with her same smile : 

“ That you are on your way to falling in love 
. . . as much as a collegian can do so with 

his cousin.” 


260 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


He made a profound bow, and, ever in a tone 
of silent bantering, he concluded with a smile : 

“ I would that you were a good prophet, for in 
this way I would find myself considerably reju- 
venated.” 

‘‘ Bah ! you are not yet of an age so advanced 
that youth seems to you desirable to that extent. 
You are decidedly in a gloomy mood to-day. 
Au revoir ! Are you going to the De Montys 
to-morrow ? ” 

“Yes. And you?” 

“ Ah ! we are, you may depend on it ! ” 

Guy imperceptibly hesitated ; then, bowing, he 
asked : 

“May I beg the favor of one of your first 
waltzes ? ” 

“ I ought to answer no, seeing how far from 
gallant you are to-day. But, as you have said, I 
am ever so very good. Au revoir ! ” 

She extended to him her pretty hand, moulded 
by the Swede glove. He saluted it very low 
and then retired, while she glided again on the 
ice. 

He went away irritated at himself on account 
of that invitation which he had just given with- 
out having any desire to see it accepted, impelled 
merely by his habitual courtesy as a man of the 
world. 

Outside a light penetrating rain was falling. 
Without taking any concern about it, he went on 
straight ahead of him, dreamily, passing judg- 
ment again with pitiless severity on the frivolity 
of his too easy life, beset at the same time by the 
recollection of Jeanne d’Esteve’s words, whom 


LITTLE AIILETTE. 


2^)1 


he wished to shun, and by the uneasiness that 
was torturing him in regard to Arlette. 

AVhen he returned home his valet’s first word 
was to announce that a dispatch had come for him. 

“ A dispatch ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, and if I had known where the gen- 
tleman was, I would have brought it to him.” 

“ All right. Give it.” 

He was indeed in the habit of receiving dis- 
patches ; yet he did not hesitate for a second as 
to where this one came from. He tore open the 
envelope and read : 

‘‘ My father died this morning. Come if you 
can, I beg of you. “ Arlette.” 

So the blow had fallen. The child was an 
orphan! And infinite compassion moved Guy’s 
heart. In that appeal which came to him across 
the distance he saw the wild fancy of a young 
creature stricken straight in the heart by a suf- 
fering for which he could do nothing, of which 
no human power could relieve her and under 
which he pictured her to himself as crushed. 

“ My poor little Arlette, my precious child ! ” 
he murmured, once more reading the few words 
of the dispatch. 

The idea that she was suffering was unendur- 
able to him ; but at the same time an impression 
of sweetness, almost of joy, penetrated his soul 
because in her distress she had called him, sure 
that he would come. Hurriedly he consulted the 
railroad time-table. 

Then he thought : 


262 


LITTLE A RLETTE. 


“ I must notify Louise, in case she has got no 
word. I have barely time before taking the 
night train.” 

And, having given orders for his baggage to 
be ready at the appointed hour, he threw himself 
into a carriage. Madame Chausey had just re- 
turned. As soon as her brother was announced, 
she appeared, with emotion on her countenance, 
and said immediately : 

“Do you know? On arriving I have just 
found a dispatch. Poor Yves Morgane suc- 
cumbed this morning. What a blow it must be 
to Arlette I I expected this death, and yet I am 
upset by it.” 

“ I have just learned of it myself, and I leave 
this evening.” 

“ You leave ? For where ? ” 

“ For Douarnenez, naturally.” 

She looked at her brother with astonishment. 
The idea had not even most faintly occurred to 
her that he could think of undertaking such a 
journey. 

“ But, Guy, do you think of doing so ?” 

“ Yes, I think of it. I think that we cannot 
remain very much at ease in our Paris when a 
child who has become somewhat our own, whom 
we say we love, has become the victim of a sor- 
row like that which she must be now enduring. 
And as the trip from Paris to Douarnenez would 
be too fatiguing for you, and as neither Charlotte 
nor Pierre can undertake it, I will go, I who 
have but too much time to lose.” 

There was in Guy’s tone an unwonted bitter- 
ness that struck Madame Chausey. 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


^63 


“ Guy, what is the matter ? Something ails 
you. Jeanne d’Esteve noticed it a little while 
ago, and spoke to me about it later.” 

“ Oh ! I entreat you, Louise, let us drop Ma- 
demoiselle d’Esteve. It is a real bother thus in- 
cessantly to hear her spoken of. On my part I 
would be very grateful to her not to exercise her 
imagination on my account. What do you think 
is the matter with me ? Nothing . . . but 

the constant regret at having my place marked 
out among the useless ones of the world, among 
those who have only the trouble of living ! It is 
true that at certain times this trouble may count ! 
But this is hardly the moment to give ourselves 
up to philosophical or other considerations. 
Time is pressing, Louise, au re voir.” 

Ever serious, Madame Chausey asked : 

“ Will you remain long at Douarnenez? ” 

“ I do not think so . . . unless, which is 

very improbable, I can, either in your name or 
my own, be of some service to Arlette.” 

She did not insist and in her turn said “ au re- 
voir.” She felt that her brother was right in 
going, that his course was quite natural ; but at 
the same time a vague regret was agitating her 
at his undertaking that journey. Yet, strange to 
say, not for an instant did the idea occur to her 
that Guy could have for Arlette more than a 
mere brotherly interest, to such an extent in her 
eyes was her niece still a mere child. She did 
not suspect when, on retiring to sleep that very 
evening, she thought that her brother was roll- 
ing toward Douarnenez, that impatience to arrive 
was burning him, that he felt falling on his very 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


2U 

heart the tears of despair that the child was 
shedding down there all alone, for having lost 
the father whom she adored. 

All night Guy de Pazanne journeyed thus ; but 
only in the middle of next day did he reach Dou- 
arnenez. The station was almost deserted. At 
that season tourists did not come, and the station 
master looked at him w ith some astonishment. H e 
took no notice of this, and hastily struck out into 
the country by that same road which he had 
traversed for the first time when Arlette was 
journeying briskly in front of him, so full of 
laughter in her rosy dress. How far that warm 
sunny summer day had flown ! A sharp wind 
was now raising the grey waves which he saw in 
the misty distance, and no joyous group was ad- 
vancing in front of him. He met only women in 
white bonnets who looked back after him. At a 
distance children were following him, whispering 
in their Breton tongue, and, seeing him direct his 
course toward Doctor Morgane’s house, they un- 
derstood and ceased to laugh for a moment. 
Guy arrived. He recognized the house, the small 
stone steps, the garden in which some early buds 
had put spots of green on the trees. The door 
was wide open. 

When he approached, neighboring women who 
were chatting in a subdued tone in front. of the 
steps, moved aside, exposing to view on the 
threshold a tall woman in black, Madame Mor- 
gane herself. And Guy then saw that it had not 
yet occurred to him that Yves Morgane had left 
a widow and other children besides Arlette. 

There was scarcely any visible trace of sorrow 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


265 


on her features, the expression of which was 
even more imperious than ordinarily. She 
scanned the young man, and asked in a harsh 
tone, without recognizing him : 

“ You wish, sir ? ” 

Guy bowed with slightly haughty ease. 

“ Allow me, madam, to present myself again 
to you, Guy de Pazanne.” 

“ Oh ! yes, I remember, Arlette’s cousin.” 

Coldly he continued : 

“We received the dispatch announcing the 
. . . sad news, and I have come to express to 

you the sympathy of all of us for you in your 
misfortune, for that of Arlette. ” 

She took in the young man with a piercing 
glance. If her husband’s death had awakened 
some recollection in her icy soul, at that moment 
certainly she no longer felt but a mute irritation 
at Guy de Pazanne’s unexpected arrival, because, 
with the clear-sightedness of her jealousy, she at 
once guessed that he was at Douarnenez, not on 
her account, nor on account of her children, but 
on Arlette’s account only ! And in the same 
haughty tone she answered : 

“It was very good of you, sir, to have come 
from Paris to assist at the mourning for my hus- 
band, wliose death will be a great misfortune to 
many. The funeral service takes place to-mor- 
row.” 

It was almost a dismissal that was given to 
him. 

But Guy, without departing from his polite- 
ness, said coldly, in a very clear tone : 

“ I thank you, madam, for deigning to give me 


266 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


notice, and I would, moreover, be very grateful 
to you if you would tell me whether I can see 
my Cousin Arlette.” 

“ My God, I know not what she will do. Cer- 
tainly, since you have put yourself out of your 
way on her account, it would indeed be as little 
as she could do to thank you for it. But she is 
such a peculiar creature that perhaps she will 
not want to see you ! One would really think 
that she alone is stricken by my husband’s death. 
The living no longer exist for her. It is impos- 
sible to tear her away from beside her father’s 
bed. I have used my authority in vain. She is 
there looking at him without even weeping like 
her sister, with fixed eyes, as if she were really 
insane. But I will go and tell her that you are 
here and that she must come down.” 

“ I entreat you, madam, not to do anything of 
the sort. Be so kind as merely to tell her of my 
arrival. She will receive me if she so desires.” 

Madame Morgane took on once more a strange 
look in which there was not an atom of good- 
ness. 

“ What ceremonies for a child ! Go and find 
her, which will be much more simple. Only ex- 
cuse me if I do not show you up. ... I have 
much troublesome business on hand to-day.” 

And she called : 

“ Corentin ! Corentin ! ” 

A door opened, and the 3^oung boy appeared. 
His fat face was begrimed with tears, and Guy, 
at once feeling sympathy for him, affectionately 
clasped his heav}^ collegian hands. In silence 
Corentin listened to his mother’s order and went 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 267 

up ahead of Guy, Avho followed him with his 
heart beating heavily in his broad breast. 

‘‘ Here ! ” he said in a smothered tone. 

Then, very low, supplicating and confused, he 
quickly concluded : 

“ Be very good to Arlette, won’t you ! She is 
so unhappy ! Yves and I can do nothing to con- 
sole her, even in the least ! ” 

And, Avithout Avaiting for a Avord from Guy 
and frightened at his boldness, he fled. 

Candles Avere starring the almost dark room in 
Avhich poor Yves Morgane had suffered so many 
painful hours. How infinite peace had fallen on 
him. At the foot of the bed, crushed on the 
floor, a spare form Avas visible. 

At the noise made by the door Arlette did not 
even turn her head. She remained in her same 
place, her eyes fixed on her father’s marble coun- 
tenance, stolidly unconscious of Avhat Avas going 
on around her. Then Guy called almost low, his 
voice vibrating with infinite and tender pity : 

“ Arlette, here I am, Arlette ! ” 

Did she recognize his voice ? Was she merely 
snatched from her torpor ? She turned around a 
little. He had remained in the doorAAmy, his tall 
figure darkly outlined. 

“ Guy ! Oh ! My God ! At last, there you 
are ! ” 

She stood up, and, throAvn as if by the spring 
of a child in distress, she came and flung herself 
into Guy’s arms, in Avhich he enveloped her. 
And she remained there Avithout a word, Avith- 
out a thought, Avithout tears, broken-hearted. 

Arlette, my poor dear little child ! ” he ‘mur- 


268 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


mured, feeling what need she had at that mo- 
ment of having affection bestowed on her. 

Lowly she said in a tone of passionate despair : 

“ Guy, I have lost him ! Is it possible that he 
can no longer speak to me, embrace me, listen to 
me, that he no longer feels my kisses ? Guy, I 
cannot bear that ! It is too horrible ! I prefer 
to die with him ! Oh ! how I would like to die ! ” 

She spoke in a low and halting tone. By the 
glimmer of the candles he noticed her poor little 
hollowed face from which her dry eyes were 
flaming, further enlarged by a sort of fright in 
the presence of inexorable misfortune, and, again, 
he repeated with extreme tenderness : 

“ Arlette, my very dear little friend ! ” 

Her look lost a little of its fixedness. But, 
clasping Guy’s hand, she resumed in the same 
tone of wild sorrow : 

“ I was a bad child. I left him. I was able to 
be satisfied and pleasant afar from him. The 
good God has punished me. He did not listen 
to me when I entreated Him to make him well. 
He has taken him from me . . . forever ! And 
I yesterday morning thought him better ! All here 
seemed to think as I did, though they say to-day 
that it was the end. I guessed at nothing. He 
still called me ‘ Arlette ! ’ and I did not under- 
stand that it was for the last time ! Now no one 
will any longer give me my name — as he said it ! 
And I deserved this.” 

She shuddered ; her voice was stifled in her 
throat. 

‘‘I entreat you,” remarked Guy, speaking to 
her very gently as to a child, whose anguish one 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


269 


wishes to assuage, ‘‘ do not make such reproaches 
against yourself ! I swear to you, I who have 
seen your poor father’s letters to my sister, that 
you realized his very desire by remaining with 
us. Kest assured also, my dear little child, that 
you will again hear your name pronounced by 
. . . those who love you, as your father said. 

Believe me, Arlette ! ” 

Was there, then, in Guy’s tone anything of the 
tone of Yves Morgane, speaking to his so much 
loved child ? On hearing it she was moved in 
every fibre; and then, all of a sudden, tears, the 
first since her misfortune, trickled down her 
white cheeks, while a sob rent her throat. Then, 
it was as if the seal placed on her sorrow had 
been suddenly broken. She began to sob wildly, 
wringing her little hands, from anguish. Quite 
low she spoke to her father, giving him the ten- 
der names which she lavished on him still the day 
before, but too much broken to go again and 
throw herself at the foot of the bed, there to 
remain with her eyes lost, fixed on the dear face 
that was no longer living. In the midst of her 
suffering she felt, however, a sweetness in feeling 
him, her Guy, near her, holding in his hands her 
icy hand, hearing him speak to her of her father 
with emotional sympathy, listening to the words 
of affection that made her distress less frightful 
and that showed her to what extent she was un- 
derstood by her friend. 

No more than her was he conscious of how 
time was passing, and he was startled at the noise 
made by the door as Madame Morgane opened it, 
followed by Mademoiselle Catherine, as white as 


270 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


the cap that formed a nimbus to her brow. Be- 
hind her Corentin had glided into the room, and 
to his father’s pillow. From the threshold Ma- 
dame Morgane took in at a glance the group 
formed by her stepdaughter and Guy. 

“ Monsieur de Fazanne,” she remarked, in a 
low voice to the young man, pointing out to him 
the old maid kneeling at the bedside, “Made- 
moiselle Catherine desires to offer you hospital- 
ity. I think Arlette would like to restore you to 
liberty.” 

Did Mademoiselle Malouzec hear ? All at once 
she arose, making a sign to the young man to 
follow her out. But Arlette had seen her move- 
ment, and, having become more pale than ever, 
she murmured suppliantly : 

“ Oh ! Guy, you will come back ? ” 

“Yes, my darling, I will return.” 

“ Why are you leaving ? It is horrible when 
you are not here ! ” 

“Because Madame Morgane would come to 
find . . . my presence here indiscreet. 

But . . .” 

He did not finish. He had just once more met 
Madame Morgane’s piercing eyes fixed on Arlette 
with an expression so severe that, in the poor lit- 
tle one’s very interest, he understood that he 
ought to master the temptation which urged him 
to remain with her as long as his presence would 
do her good. 

But he had a horror of abandoning her thus all 
alone in that death chamber, and entreatingly he 
asked her to allow herself to be taken away for 
a little while by Mademoiselle Catherine. Im- 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


271 


mediately she shook her head, with her thin face 
become fierce : 

‘‘I7o, I will not leave him. Must I not to- 
morrow leave him forever ? ” 

Her voice seemed as if a breath escaping from 
her blanched lips, and she had the appearance of 
being so exhausted that Mademoiselle Catherine 
murmured to Guy : 

“ She can stand no more of it. If you have 
any influence over her, use it to bring her away 
from this room. You will perhaps succeed better 
than I in persuading her.’’ 

He approached the child, who was pale as a 
young corpse. 

“ You will come back, Arlette ; but it is neces- 
sary for you to go and take a little rest,” he re- 
sumed, in that tone which had such empire over 
her. “ Come so that you may have strength to 
remain until the end beside your poor father, else 
to-morrow you will no longer be able to see him, 
you will be ill.” 

In her look, which had become dry again, she 
had an expression of unspeakable suffering ; then, 
shutting her eyes, she murmured : 

“ Oh ! to-morrow ! ” 

And, without a word more, she slipped inertly 
into Guy’s arms, open to clasp her. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


Xow Yves Morgan e was resting from life in 
the supreme peace of a small Breton cemetery, 
and Guy was returning toward Paris. But Ma- 
dame Morgane had judged Avith so much malev- 
olence his affection for Arlette and the confident 
resignation with which she responded to it, that, 
so as not to injure the child, he had resigned him- 
self to leaving Douarnenez Avithout Availing, as 
he had Avished, for the examination of Yves Mor- 
gane- s papers to throAv some light on Arlette’s 
future condition. Mademoiselle Catherine her- 
self had Avarmly advised him to do this, and he 
kneAV that he could depend on her good sense and 
foresight. 

Accordingly he had left once the funeral cere- 
monies in church and cemetery Avere over. The 
night train Avas carrying him toAvard Paris, 
alone in his coach, haunted by the Adsion of a 
pale little face like that of a Avax virgin, Avith 
two large eyes shining Avith feverish brilliancy, 
eyes that he had knoAvn Avhen sparkling Avith 
gayety, and Avhich he could no longer see again 
but Avith their expression of dark and passionate 
sorroAv, and full at the same time of every sort 
of mysterious dread in the presence of that be- 
yond seen close at hand for the first time. 

But at that moment especially he had living 
in all his being the last and poignant image that 
272 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


273 


he carried away of her, when, at the very mo- 
ment that he was going to leave, exasperated at 
having had to address his parting adieu to her 
under Madame Morgane’s malevolent eye, she 
had come to Mademoiselle Malouzec’s, who had 
been driven wild by the violent scene just created 
by the girl’s stepmother. Brutally had Madame 
Morgane, who was irritated by the general in- 
terest shown in Arlette, thrown in her face, with 
assertion of her rights over her, the revelation of 
the poverty that had been bequeathed to her by 
her father and that had delivered her over to the 
charity of those around her ; and the child, re- 
volting against the pitiless words that were 
hurled at her misfortune, had fled and come 
to seek a refuge with her old friends — cast also 
toward their house by the instinctive hope that 
Guy would still be there. And as for him, she 
was sure that he would not allow her to be tor- 
tured so any more ! 

He was still there, and, with tender and com- 
passionate authority, he had striven to calm the 
despairing child, who repeated to him in a low 
voice, as if in complaint : 

“ Oh ! Guy, why do you leave ? ” 

And why, after all, had he left, after having 
promised her, it is true, to return soon ? Now a 
keen regret was stinging him at the mere thought 
that, if he had wished, he could have yet at that 
moment been down there with the beloved little 
one, to surround her with that atmosphere of af- 
fection which alone would somewhat dull her 
despairing grief. 

“ But I am a fool to have left,” he grumbled 


274 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


quite low. “ I should have remained at no mat- 
ter what cost, without even disturbing myself as 
to Madame Morgane’s existence ! I should have 
remained near her ... or rather carried 
her off ! ” 

Yes, carrried her off ! To be able to hear her, 
to speak to her, to meet her childish look, so 
pure and so passionate ! Oh ! to have her at 
that minute, confidently nestling by his side, so 
that he could still murmur to her the words that 
one has for cherished beings when they are suf- 
fering. 

He startled at this mere regret, and then sud- 
denly the truth, from whose presence he had 
been shrinking for weeks, appeared to him in 
full light — the light that was illuminating the 
Promised Land. He, the bantering and over- 
sated clubman, loved with the best of himself 
that child whom chance had thrown into his life 
and who seemed to have entered there never to 
leave again. Could he dissemble this to himself 
any longer ? At that moment the aspiration of 
his whole being was to see her, to find her again, 
to keep her so as never again to lose her. And 
the irresistible avowal sprang from his lips : 

“ I love her as I have loved no woman ! ” 

Mechanically he arose and took a few steps in 
the coach, upset by the blinding brilliance of that 
revelation which all at once delighted and fright- 
ened him. To love Arlette ! For weeks past he 
had been unavowedly conscious of it, in the pres- 
ence of the void left in him by her departure 
from Paris, in the presence of his keen need of 
hearing her spoken of, in the presence of the 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


275 


obscure joy that had seized him at the mere 
thouglit of seeing her again at Douarnenez, 
whither she was calling him. 

But after that ? Did he love her enough to 
olfer to her his whole life, to go as far as mar- 
riage, which he had always dreaded ? His keen 
thought was rummaging in his memory, calling 
up therefrom visages of young ladies whom his 
sister had wished to see him marry — and, more 
attractive than most of them, the beautiful 
Jeanne d’Esteve. Well, neither the one nor 
the other had had over him an atom of the 
power with which Arlette possessed him, by the 
mere influence of her real youth, of her delight- 
ful ignorance, of her freshness of mind and soul 
which he had not met in any other, and whose 
unknown charm he had tasted from the moment 
of their first meeting. Oh ! to make her his 
own, to guard her against the miseries that come 
from men, to give her all his love and to receive 
in exchange from her the gift of her young 
heart, which no one — her father excepted — had 
ever possessed ! 

It was a nameless dream that he was having 
there, so exquisite that he was afraid of it, hesi- 
tating to let himself be enveloped by the morn- 
ing brightness that had suddenly risen on his 
life. A dull fear, moreover, was invading him 
lest he was yielding to a dilettante fancy by 
going toward that little creature so new who for 
that very reason was so strangely attracting him, 
and, from a sort of scruple of conscience, he mur- 
mured : 

“ I will await the captain’s letter concerning 


276 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


Arlette’s position, before reaching any decision ; 
especially so as to speak to Louise.’’ 

But within himself already he knew that an 
hour would come when, his last hesitations being 
overcome, he would come, ever so happy at her 
defeat, to entreat the beloved little one to en- 
trust her young life to him. 

Longer than he had foreseen did he await the 
letter which must, according to his will, decide 
his destiny. He waited a long two weeks, dur- 
ing which he could give an account to himself 
of what the child had become to him. Like a 
stranger, he now moved in his customary sur- 
roundings, all the interest of his existence tend- 
ing toward the little corner of Brittany where 
she lived, and the idea that she was suffering 
there without his doing anything for her became 
to him the more intolerable as the days passed. 
Only had he known anything of her from the 
captain’s business letters, like him a member of 
the family council, from the brief notes, all pal- 
pitating with sobs, which she had written to 
Madame Chausey and Madeleine. 

At last, one morning, in his mail, he noticed a 
letter the large writing on which had a rather 
awkward appearance, and, pushing all the otheis 
aside, he opened it. It was indeed that for 
which he had longed so much, but written by 
Mademoiselle Catherine, who, with her ordinary 
frankness, explained to him at once why she was 
his correspondent on this occasion. 

“ Deae Sie : 

‘‘ Here, at last, the child’s affairs are 


LITTLE AllLETTE. 


277 


somewhat cleared up ; and I preferred to come 
and speak of them to you myself, for there are 
certain questions which women — without mean- 
ing any offence to my brother — treat better than 
do men, when sentiment is to be mixed up with 
them. In the first place, you will see in the 
papers hereunto annexed that the child to-day 
has scarcely more than five hundred francs in- 
come. All the rest was swallowed up in the 
Le Goanec failure. Madame Morgane knows it 
now ; and, my word for it, I am ready to believe 
that she is triumphant over it ! She had offered 
to keep Arlette in her house, but on terms so big 
with threats regarding the happiness and even 
the peace of the little one, that we rejected her 
proposals, my brother and I thus conforming 
with her poor father’s desire, as he exacted that 
she should remain with us ; I may add on my 
own account, provided no better future presents 
itself for her. Now, dear sir, as you and Ma- 
dame Chausey represent the child’s family, we 
have thought that we ought to have your con- 
sent to install her with us, for good, as our 
daughter. This would be to us a joy that we 
had never dreamed of. It was, I repeat to you, 
the doctor’s own desire ; for he wished that she 
continue to lead the very simple life to which 
she has been accustomed and which, probably, 
will remain hers. 

‘‘ Perhaps your sister, who is very good, would 
think of taking the child into her house ? Well, 
I have reflected on this prospect ; I have spoken 
of it to my brother, and, before my conscience, I 
tell you that this solution would not seem to me 


278 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


too good for Arlette, who, after having tasted of 
your splendor, would perhaps find it difficult to 
become accustomed to the very modest home 
which she will perforce have if she gets married. 
For I do not entertain any illusions ; men of 
means marry only women who have means like 
themselves. At Douarnenez, I hope, the child 
will find some good young man who will be sat- 
isfied with the small fortune that we will assure 
to her, and I am firmly convinced that she will 
be able to be as happy as her father desired. 
You may indeed rest assured, sir, as may also 
Madame Chausey, that we will not allow her to 
forget her Paris family. But, trust to my old 
experience, it is better that she does not leave 
her country ; it would be preferable — I am go- 
ing to be quite frank — that she does not become 
too much attached to you. Monsieur Guy, and 
that her girlish imagination have not the oppor- 
tunity to attach an importance that does not ex- 
ist to the brotherly interest that you have been 
so good as to take in her. 

“ That, sir, is all that I had to say to 3^ou. I 
hope that you will share our way of judging and 
see in it only a proof of the extreme affection 
that we have for dear little Arlette.” 

Guy let the letter fall and smiled. 

“No, dear Mademoiselle Catherine, I do not 
share in your way of thinking. You are good 
and generous ; but I will not thus abandon my 
treasure to you.” 

A great calm suddenly came about in him, his 
hesitancy being carried away by the breath of 
hope that was passing over him. He murmured : 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


270 


“ I will marry Arlette.” 

And his own words resounded in his ear as a 
promise of happiness. 

Then all at once he resolved to speak to Ma- 
dame Chausey. Until that moment, he had 
awaited, knowing the deception that he was 
practicing on her by secretly wishing to make 
Arlette his wife, when she had long dreamed for 
him a brilliant marriage as the world goes. 

In the forenoon he was sure to find her alone. 

Indeed, she was writing in her little parlor, 
and uttered an exclamation of pleasure on seeing 
him : 

“Guy! what a pleasant surprise! You have 
been almost invisible this week. What has be- 
come of you, then ? ” 

He smiled, and Madame Chausey was struck 
at the pleasant outburst of that smile. 

“Hothing has become of me. I have been 
resting from my journey to Brittany.” 

“ Have you had letters from Douarnenez ? ” 

“Yes, this very morning. I have received a 
letter from Mademoiselle Catherine.” 

“ Who tells you that . . .” 

“ That Arlette’s position is indeed such as we 
feared. Yves Morgane died a ruined man, and 
Arlette remains without any fortune.” 

Madame Chausey took in her brother with a 
glance of surprise. How could he, loving Ar- 
lette as he did, look calmly on that young girl’s 
difficult position ? 

“ Guy, it is very sad ! What is going to be- 
come of the poor little one ? ” 

“ Mademoiselle Catherine and the captain ask 


280 


LITTLE AELETTE. 


US — as representatives of the family — to leave 
her with them. They would adopt her in some 
way or other. But Arlette, I hope, will not need 
to take advantage of their generosity.” 

Madame Chausey did not answer all at once ; 
then slowly she said : 

“ Indeed, she can hardly remain in their charge, 
any more than in that of her odious stepmother. 
It seems to me that her true place is with us. Is 
that not your opinion ? ” 

He bowed and embraced his sister on the hair, 
as he did at the time when he was a very caress- 
ing little boy : 

“ Thanks for having guessed, my darling. 
Thanks for your very thought.” 

“Which is quite natural. For, on the whole, 
there is question of a charming little girl whom 
all of us love. For my part, moreover, I will 
gain much by her presence, since she will be a 
companion to me when Madeleine in her turn gets 
married. Then you say that the poor little one 
no longer has anything in the shape of fortune ? ” 

“ Nothing, almost.” 

And a joy arose in him at the idea that he 
would give her that fortune which she did not 
have ; that, thanks to him, she would not know 
the bitterness of dependent conditions. 

His sister’s voice startled him. 

“ Guy, what are you thinking of ? ” 

“ Of all sorts of very serious things. Tell me, 
Louise, are you deeply interested in Arlette? 
You are attached to her, sincerely ? ” 

“Very much attached” she repeated, in sur- 
prise. 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


281 


“ You are interested in her future ? ” 

“ Yes, certainly. I will do whatever I can to 
prepare to make it as happy for her as possible. 
I will keep her close to me until the moment 
when I shall have the opportunity to get her 
comfortably married. I hope indeed that I will 
succeed in discovering for her a party better than 
him whom Madame Harvet found.” 

There was a brief silence ; then Guy’s voice 
rose gravely : 

“ I really think, Louise, that the best thing for 
Arlette would be to get her married ; only it is 
useless for you to look for a party for her.” 

“ Because ? ” 

“ Because, if Arlette consents, she will become 
my wife.” 

In a genuine fit of amazement Madame Chau- 
sey looked at her brother : 

Your wife ! Arlette become your wife ! Let 
us see, Guy, whether you are only joking ! ” 

“ Do I look so ? ” 

“ It cannot really be that you are thinking of 
marrying Arlette ! ” 

“ And why not ? ” 

“ Because she is a child, because she is neither 
in your position, nor in your set, nor . . .” 

‘‘Louise, I entreat you, be silent. Surprise 
keeps you from measuring your words, and they 
are not such as I would like to listen to, at this 
moment especially.” 

Guy’s tone Avas so positive that Madame Chau- 
sey felt she found herself in the presence of a 
man of firm resolve. 

“ Then, Guy, whence came such an idea to 


282 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


Why do you want to marry Arlette ? 



A smile distended Guy’s features. 

“ Because I am as weak and as selfish as all 
other men and ardently desire to be happy ; be- 
cause I know that I can be so through Arlette 
only, whom I love.” 

“ You love Arlette ? You love her ? Keally ? 
To sacrifice to her your liberty of which you 
were so jealous? Come, now ! You think you 
love her, that is all. She amused you at first. 
You found her attractive on account of her un- 
affectedness, because she did not resemble the 
women whom you had been in the habit of meet- 
ing. Then, you became still more attached to her, 
seeing her suffer. You have had pity on her, 
knowing her to be poor. But those are not 
sufficient reasons for breaking up your whole 
future.” 

Madame Chausey’s lips were trembling with 
emotion, and she stopped, her voice smothered, 
without turning her eyes from her brother’s 
serious countenance. 

“I should have thought, on the contrary, 
Louise, that those were great reasons. But you 
are mistaken in supposing that I desire to make 
Arlette my wife from compassion. I am neither 
a saint nor a hero, and from charity I would not 
feel myself capable of sacrificing my life to a 
child whom I merely pitied. I wish to marry 
Arlette because she is infinitely dear to me, be- 
cause she is a realization of my dream, namely, 
to marry a genuinely candid young girl, who is 
ignorant of the ugly phases of our poor human 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


283 


nature, of whom I will be the first master, whose 
perfectly white soul no man has stained ! ” 

“ Then it is from dilettantism that you want 
to marry her?” she interrupted, in the same 
violent and restrained tone. 

“ I have been afraid of it for a moment. ISTow 
I am sure that I am not. I know too well to 
what extent I am absolutely devoted to her and 
how precious her happiness is to me. If I told 
you, Louise, that I wished to become Jeanne 
d’Esteve’s husband, you would not rise up in the 
same way against my plan ! ” 

“ Naturally ! You would be making a suitable 
marriage! You would be marrying a woman 
belonging to the same social set as yourself, the 
same education, the same fortune.” 

A dull exclamation escaped from Guy : 

“ Ah 1 there at last is frankly admitted the 
reason for your opposition ! So to you also, 
Louise, matrimony is in reality a matter of 
money. So that the purse of each of the be- 
trothed is well filled, all that you find to be 
wished for is accomplished. If I were to make 
my wife of no matter what parlor doll, were she 
even already an abominably experienced co- 
quette, but in return well dowried, you would 
bow in delight and would be the first to urge me 
to come to conclusions in the matter. And if 
you reject Arlette, whom you said you love and 
wish to treat as your daughter, it is only because 
she is not an heiress ! ” 

“ Guy, you are severe 1 ” interrupted Madame 
Chausey, whose eyes had become filled with 
tears. 


284 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


There was much truth in her brother’s words ; 
but she had her excuse. Toward him she had 
always had a motherly ambition ; and here he 
was shutting out from himself every chance of a 
brilliant future by pretending to devote his life 
to a fortuneless child, delightful, she acknowl- 
edged, but no more so than many others who 
could have come to him, with their little hands 
full of gold. 

“ Guy, you are very severe ! for, if you are play- 
ing your part while dreaming only of your affec- 
tion for Arlette, I myself am in mine when re- 
minding you that, married to a woman without 
any dowry, you will have to give up a large part 
of your pleasure. Your fortune is considerable, 
now that you are alone in using it ; it will be 
much less on the day when you will have charge 
of a wife and children. Take care, then, when 
you no longer see things through your . . . 

passion, lest you regret your resolve of to- 
day!” 

^Yhile listening to his sister he had been walk- 
ing across the room. When she became silent 
he stopped in front of her, his features marked 
with proud energy : 

“ What you have been saying to me I know, 
Louise. But, thank God, I am not enough of a 
coward to find any reason for hesitation therein. 
Joyfully do I accept this new life which you an- 
nounce to me ; joyfully I repeat it to you, since 
it will bring to me the obligation of making an 
end of my life of laziness, which I despised and 
which, however, I had the weakness to continue 
to lead. Thanks to Arlette, I will raise myself 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


285 


in my own esteem, as, from love of her, I 
will work ! I will secure some occupation or 
other.” 

Tears were now flowing down Madame Chau- 
sey’s pale cheeks. Guy saw them, and his irri- 
tation came to an end. Briskly he drew near to 
her and knelt beside his sister, drawing Madame 
Chausey’s hands into his own. 

“ Louise,” he gently remarked, “ be as good as 
you used to be, when you were not merely a 
sister to me, but a very tender mother, who 
thought only of seeing me happy. Accept with 
your heart, without making calculations of rea- 
son and of worldly wisdom, the dear little bride 
whom I wish to take to myself. Leave me to 
seek my happiness where I am certain that it is. 
You would not like to see one of your daughters 
tormented to no purpose. Do not set yourself 
up against me, my dear, my best friend.” 

He spoke to her in the same tone as of old, 
low and tender, when he was a child and wanted 
to obtain from her the greatest favor in her 
giving. Then, suddenly overcome, she laid her 
hand on that man’s head raised toward her, in the 
same manner she formerly had toward him as a 
little boy, and their looks met, full of the in- 
vincible affection that they had for each other. 
In spite of everything, even the crumbling of her 
dreams, she was proud that he thus despised the 
question of interest to enter into a marriage 
merely of love. 

“ I wish what you wish, Guy,” she remarked, 
slowly. “ But yet, grant me one thing. Wait a 
few days more before speaking to Arlette. Be- 


286 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


Hectj SO as to be quite sure of yourself. It is for 
her happiness as well as for yours.” 

He hesitated. To wait ! W ould he ever have 
the courage to do so ? 

“ Guy, i entreat you ! ” Madame Chausey re- 
peated. 

He smiled at his sister’s air of entreaty, and 
then said : 

“ Be it so, since you so desire, my dear big 
sister, I will delay the moment of entering into 
the Promised Land.” 


CHAPTER XIY. 


On leaving, Guy had said to Arlette that he 
would come back, and she was waiting for him 
confidently. Yet he was very slow in returning ! 
Days and days had fled since he had left her ; and 
when she thought of those days, and of the latest 
especially that she had spent under Madame 
Morgane’s tutelage, after her father’s death, she 
had the impression of having lived in a horrible 
nightmare. At last, thank God, she now felt 
around her the atmosphere of warm affection 
with which the captain and Mademoiselle Cath- 
erine strove to surround her, for they were ever 
anxious to resuscitate in her the Arlette of old, 
ardent and lively, tasting of life as of a fine 
savory fruit. 

At that moment she was no longer but a poor 
little creature, all played out by the trial that had 
fallen on her, upheld only by the unconscious ex- 
pectation of something. She knew not what, but 
that something might indeed be Guy’s return. 

Ah ! if he had been there, she would no longer 
have felt that terrible sensation of being all alone 
in the world from which even the affection of her 
old friends could not deliver her. She would also 
have accepted, without suffering so much, seeing 
all things born again under the first renewing 
sunshine. 

For spring had come. The buds were opening 
287 


288 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


on the branches bloated with sap. Early apple 
trees were covered with a rosy snow. A new 
life was palpitating in the earth, which had be- 
come fruitful again, in the warm air, loaded with 
undefinable odors, through which fluttered the 
first white butterflies. And Arlette, herself, was 
undergoing the power of that mysterious joy shed 
on beings and on things, while she was wander- 
ing in the garden, listening to the clear ringing 
of the Holy Saturday bells, already announcing 
the great feast of the Kesurrection, which came 
late that year. Around her floated the perfume 
of the violets with which the garden was dotted, 
for they had blossomed there in thousands, and, 
being pressed, shed a balm. 

Her father had loved violets as she did. And, 
shivering all of a sudden, she took to making a 
harvest of them so as to go and carry them to 
him, there where he had been sleeping for long 
weeks already. She was gathering them with a 
sort of passion ; then, wearied, she came back to 
sit down and slipped her little fingers into that 
pile of sun- warmed petals, thinking of other Easter 
festivals, so joyful that the mere memory of them 
made her shudder with anguish for the happi- 
nesses that were irreparably lost. There was no 
noise around her except the sonorous chant of 
the bells or, momentarily, a sound of voices rising 
from some neighboring garden. Mademoiselle 
Catherine was in the little shop, and the captain 
was receiving some visit or other in the low hall. 
But no doubt the visitor had left, for she heard 
Monsieur Malouzec asking the Breton servant 
girl : 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


289 . 


‘‘ Where, then, is Mademoiselle Arlette ? ’’ 

The information was given in a less elevated 
tone, and only the captain’s answer came to her : 

“ She is in the garden ? Well, then, let us go 
and find her. You are coming ? ” 

To whom, then, was he speaking ? She raised 
her head with a dull beating of the heart, her 
hands joined on her harvest of violets. A wave 
of blood had ascended to her little face, suddenly 
restoring to her all her delightful brilliance. The 
captain was entering upon the walk and behind, 
ah ! he, it was indeed he ! Guy was advancing 
toward her, preceding her old friend ! She stood 
erect, and the violets trickled around her in a 
perfumed rain. 

“ Guy ! at last, it is you ! Ah ! how you have 
delayed in coming ! ” 

In a voice that trembled, he asked : 

“ Did you desire my return, and does it give 
you a little pleasure to see me ? ” 

“ A little ! Oh ! Guy, how long it is since I 
have been expecting you ! ” 

“ And it is many days also, Arlette, since I 
have been awaiting this moment ! ” 

“ When did you arrive ? ” 

‘‘ About an hour ago.” 

“ And it was you who were with the captain ? ” 
“ Yes, I had a request to make of him.” 

And Guy turned half way around toward the 
old man, who was listening, with an undefinable 
expression on his good-natured and amiable coun- 
tenance. 

“ A request which you will answer as it suits 
you, little queen ; for, as for me . . . Mon- 


290 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


sieur de Pazanne, since Arlette is there to keep 
you company, I will go and see Catherine.” 

He went away, and Guy sat down beside the 
child, without taking his gaze from the refined 
and paled young countenance, seeking the eyes 
whose limpid flame he adored. 

“ Oh ! Guy ! ” she remarked, almost in a whis- 
per, “ why can you not remain always ? It is 
good when you are here ! ” 

“Ho, I cannot remain always . . . and 

yet, since we have been separated, I have discov- 
ered one thing ! It is that I could no longer do 
without your presence, my precious little friend. 
I have come to claim you.” 

“To claim me ! ” 

Her exclamation resembled a cry of deliver- 
ance. 

“ Hear Arlette, would it be too hard for you 
to leave your Houarnenez and come and live in 
Paris ? ” 

“ I no longer love Houarnenez now,” she re- 
marked with trembling lips. “ I no longer love 
it but in the past, because he lived there. Is it a 
demand you wish to make of me ? Oh ! take me 
away ! Ho not leave me any longer ! Wherever 
you will bring me, I will go, Guy ! ” 

He felt that she spoke truly, that wherever he 
would have asked her to go, she would follow 
him, confidingly, because she had faith in him 
and in soul was already all his own. 

An ardent joy raised him up, in such a way 
that he had never before felt the like. Then, 
imprisoning one of her dear little hands in both 
of his, he asked with infinite tenderness : 


LITTLE AKLETTE. 


291 


“ And you do not even ask me, Arlette, whither 
I wish to take you ? ” 

“ Close to my aunt ! ” 

“ Yes, at first, for a few weeks, for as long as 
you will decide yourself, until the day when you 
will have at last given me the right . . 

He stopped for a moment, then his voice arose 
all at once grave and suppliant, he drawing 
toward him Arlette’s very soul : 

“Until the day when you will have at last 
given me the right to bring you to my house, 
when you have become my wife.” 

She became white to her very lips, and a sin- 
gle word escaped from her : 

“ Guy ! ” 

“You will not repel your great friend, will 
you, Arlette? You will give him the certainty 
of never more losing you ? ” 

Feebly she said, trembling in the presence of 
that unheard-of happiness which came to her : 

“ I am not dreaming, Guy ? It is indeed to me 
that you are speaking ? It is indeed true that 
you wish to take me, so that I may never again 
leave you ? ” 

He repeated : 

“ Never again, if you have enough affection for 
me to consent to it.” 

“Now, Guy, there is no one on earth that I 
love like you ! But . . .” 

And she stopped, disturbed by a sudden fear 
in her divine eagerness : 

“ But are you quite sure that it is not merely 
from charity that you wish well of me, because I 
have asked "you never again to leave me ? ” 


292 


LITTLE ARLETTE. 


“ From charity ? ” 

A smile came over him that transfigured his 
countenance ; then, in a lower tone, drawing for 
the first time under his lips the adored little face, 
he concluded, the child nestling in his arms, as 
he had dreamed her : 

“No, it is not from charity; it is because I 
also love you more than anything in the world, 
ray Arlette.” 

And in the smiling peace of that peaceful 
Breton garden richly flowered with Easter vio- 
lets, to the tinkling of the bells that were chant- 
ing the “ Alleluia ” of the liesurrection, thus took 
place the betrothal of little Arlette to her Cousin 
Guy. 


THE END. 




DEC 121899 


h. > 






'■•A 


I . > 








I, I*. 




tp. 




r Ui 


I j‘ 


H 


r. i 


\K' 




> f * 


J .‘i, 


>•1 


■1 U 


V' I 


I V 




*1 \% 


S V 










'iLu 






I 'j 


'Iff 




Wi 




U ./r, 


iti 






>> 




( ‘ ' 




» • 






.•iM- 


PI': 






/.I • 




.* ' 






'.K* 


J r /> 


‘V ,.'/' 


.iH 


I .' 


J 


4t 




i! 


tt- 




':«y!> 


')P51 




'.V!. 




i.*i 




'> 




'■'n 




r..>, 


' f 


vv^ 




V)' '■. 


* I 


\i •’^ > 




A 


W*4 




i4ni" 


^1 




rw 


' I 


'i,t\. 


1) 


». ■- H 


)' * 


< 




I ; * 


1 « V 

p 


o. fl 


> . lls 


,?•’ '."V ^ 


17 


:H‘; 


i 


N.' 


/ < 


>• • 


I ' 


I ’>• 


t . 




? P 


V 1 


:• ki 




'f 




:»; • • 






•i * 


.r KP».i 


I*’ '41 






I . P , 


Wi 


•n 


k r 






v% 




rU4i» 




1*1 


i : 1 


f 3 


\\ 


I 

t 






I Aj 




k '!» 


.I'N 


'.p, » ^ 






'W 


‘Hi 






rn0 


•'J'V) 


y ■' 

■J 


•rr 






ir 


4 /y 




I f 


• I 


■1. • 


m 


.w 


-^1 


1 ■• . • 




f 

''- J5(<j :.'7, ' '; 


.!« • 


I 

.'k' * » I 




I 


\ ; i 


p*/ 


iC' 




.Si 


;^i' 


I 


i> * 


, « t 




■■■ '• 


Wi 


i*iK»- r 


k ( 


mBIh •■I k .,... • 7' 




■p-.pj: 


i I 




* .♦: 


f*4’ 


• f 


yu t 






V 




. '' V' i''i‘ 


) ■ ‘14 

( < » 


I • 


‘ ►» 


V 


, 


:• '*.:• !, 


. i 




1 * 


XA 


V 


^7^ 


. • >» 


'pIv 


o 




/ ' ' 


J.-: 


}.» 




J 


I ■ >■ 


■?>JS 

‘sS 


V '.It: 


A 


ill. 




■' .'L,' ii;, 

.<t ..'V- 


iiV 


3.V »?: 


.S 


• p|' 


. . • V. » , 

. <. A'iP': 


;.» 




'Si 


;♦ 


V . I I 


• 1 , 


'»r 


rTi! 




^ « 




1' :;fe; 

k i: , 

1 






;iS!’ 


Ail'f'* 


ik.r^j 


X. 


' ' i ti 




» ■ 


•I y 


iLlm.yX 


:» p 


<>/. 


li 


» / 


k 


n ' «. 


V: 


n 


‘Uk 


V ^■ 




’X/)} 


n 


X'.'i 


tc 


®? jiy 


'l.f ' 




A*- 


i>'j 








B: 


:> '-I •- o- 




V p. 


J 'kv’ij 


. r ' 






* u 




Ki*' 


’1^)' 












3 


'v: 




I 


.•j 


Vi, 


m 




it 


I.' -Si 


t; 


■t'd 


,HM 1. 




ill 






• >. 


' .. 




K.\1 


m 




i\ 


i 






•■k 


L< I 


I . 


- 1* 


•V . 


'I • . p. • 




<W<' 


,V 




6 


L' » 


■A. 


il 


\ 


rp 




'jV'rj’j 


*iS 




.-u 


I 1 


i 






v1 




II •- VSr *• 


Lf' 


m 


.T'l -* 

- 'I' >T 




7i 


■i* J 


li 











